Worthless and Forgettable: Cloves story
by ju-crom
Summary: Clove and Cato, the District 2 tributes. Cloves journey from her District 2 up until her death and beyond, in The 74th Hunger Games.
1. Worthless and Forgettble

**Worthless and Forgettable**

And there's the clincher. Cato. The most popular boy in school, the Golden boy of the district. If anyone could win the Hunger Games, it would be him. And I find I cant even bring myself to hate him, even though I know all the sponsors we might get would go to him, all the support from our District would be for him.

I was entirely forgettable.

No-one had protested when he Volunteered. No-one had even looked upset that their Golden boy would be going into the arena to fight for the death. They all thought they had a winner on their hands, and it excited them. I couldn't say I blamed them; if I wasn't also going to be risking my life, I know I would be just as excited as they were.

There would be a party in the District tonight, a party in our honour. Or rather, in Cato's honour. Because when he stepped up on the stage, no-one seemed to remember I was there. A great swell of cheers and exuberant claps for Cato and I was left just standing there. It didn't matter really. I was dead. I was dead before I had even been chosen. There could be no way I could possibly win. But Cato could. Cato could bring our District the glory and fame that came with being a Victor. I was just here as a formality.

* * *

When we were ushered into the Justice Building I stayed silent, letting them lead me into my goodbye room with out a sound. Cato didn't even look at me, only confirming my suspicions that I was not needed. He could easily go to the Capitol and take out the entire field of Tributes in two days, if it wasn't for me. Because we were the Careers. And the Careers always stuck together, always hunted down the other Tributes in a pack.

My parents came by and they hugged me, not saying much. They told me that I had to make sure Cato came back and I sat there and nodded, my heart slowly breaking as I realised that even my own family didn't believe I could win. When they left my room, I sat in silence again, struggling not to cry. My death would be worthless. I was worthless.

After my parents were gone, no-one else came to say goodbye. It wasn't that I was unpopular; I had plenty of friends. But Cato was better than I could possibly be and I knew without having to be told, they were all in Cato's room. I understood their thoughts: why waste your time and say goodbye to both tributes when only one could come back? But I still hated them. Hated that they didn't have the heart to come and say goodbye to me when I was going off to my death.

Worthless and Forgettable.

I waited until someone came to collect me and let them push me into a car. Cato was already in on one side and our Escort sat in between us, a chattering wall that neither Cato nor I could be bothered listening to. He told us about what we were going to expect when we got to the Capitol, and how _fantastic_ we would find everything from the _fantastic_ food to the _fantastic_ rooms to the _fantastic_ training facilities to the _fantastic_ servants.

I had a feeling he found everything _fantastic_.

When he started talking about how _fantastic_ it was to have a winner in his District, his body slightly turned as he addressed Cato directly, I decided I'd had enough.

I whirled on him, whipping out a knife I kept hidden in my sleeve and held it up to his throat. He choked on his words and I felt a vindictive satisfaction at the fact that his eyes were bulging from his sockets.

"I'm thinking maybe you should stop talking now," Cato snickered and he caught my eye for just a moment. And in that moment, I considered smiling back, trying to be friends with the Golden boy. But then I decided I didn't need his help. I pulled my knife away, concealing it up my sleeve as we pulled up to the station. Without being helped, I shoved through the door and stormed to the waiting train, shaking with barely contained rage.

Cato sauntered over, completely ignoring the crowds that were shouting his name, and stood by my side. When the train opened it's doors to let us in, I disappeared inside without glancing at my District. I didn't need a parting gift of their ongoing love for Cato. To my surprise though, Cato followed my lead and the doors were shut. My last glimpse of home was through a small window and I snorted, the irony only becoming clear to me as we pulled away from the station.

It was all Worthless and Forgettable. Just like me.

* * *

I didn't bother waiting for our Mentors to enter. Why bother, when they would both be working together to bring Cato home. So instead I slipped down the corridors, finding one of the Avox servants that our Escort told us would be '_fantastic_' and ordered them to show me to my room. They obliged quickly, and I slipped inside, murmuring a quiet thank you as the door closed.

When I was alone, I stumbled to the bathroom, only just making it the toilet before I heaved up everything I had eaten for breakfast.

Trembling and half sobbing, I didn't hear the door open. I became aware that someone was standing in the door frame of my bathroom and I glanced up to see Cato staring down at me in pity in the reflection from the mirror. I moaned, wiping my mouth with my sleeve.

"What are you doing here?" I manage to spit out, all my dignity gone.

He didn't answer, just busied himself at the sink. I sunk back on my knees and laid my cheek on the cold porcelain of the toilet, feeling my face burning red. Of all the people to see me like this, it had to be Cato. It was just embarrassing.

After a few moments he crouched down beside me, pulling me backwards so I was lying in his arms. Before I could protest, he locked my arms down to my sides and wiped at my mouth with a hot towel. I squirmed in his arms, struggling against his tight hold. He didn't budge up, folding the towel in a square and dabbing at my face gently.

"What. Are. You. Doing?" I snarled, struggling to break free from his hold. He ignored me, tossing the towel over his head. He rocked back on his heels and scooped me into his arms effortlessly and I thrashed violently. Without a word he carried me back out into the main room, his arms tightening around my waist ever so slightly so I didn't buck out of them.

He laid me down onto the bed softly and patted my forehead gently, stepping back quickly to dodge my sudden punch. I arched my back and pushed myself up so I was crouched on the bed on the balls of my feet, poised to attack. He chuckled, watching me curiously.

I leapt at him when I was sure he wouldn't expect it and his eyes widened with surprise when I landed on his chest, sending him crashing to the floor. I pulled my blade from my sleeve and pressed it gently to his neck, not deep enough to break the skin, but with just enough pressure that he knew it was there.

"I don't need your pity, Cato," I said quietly, staring directly into his eyes. He nodded, reached up slowly, so as not to startle me I think, and gently pulled my hands away. He wrestled for my knife for a moment and I resisted for just a second before giving it to him. Better he has it than I, since I was in such a mood I would probably use it to kill someone before the Games had even started. He smiled at me, a sudden thing that lit up his entire face and I blinked in shock at his sudden mood change.

"I'm not giving you pity. I'm offering you my hand in friendship," he said simply. His hands slipped down to my waist and he sat up slowly, holding me close to him. I stared into his eyes for a while and decided that maybe, just maybe, I could be friends with this popular Golden Boy from my District. He really did have the best intentions I supposed. And it wasn't his fault that, when I was compared to him, I was instantly forgettable. It wasn't his fault that I was seen as someone who would only get in the way of his chances of fame and glory.

* * *

He left me a while later. We hadn't talked much. We hadn't needed to. He seemed to understand that words were not what I wanted and he'd held me close, not saying anything. It was nice. Peaceful even.

It was a side of Cato that I'd never seen. A side I don't think anyone in our District had seen. Cato, all swagger and muscle. Cato, loud and flashy. Cato, always in the spotlight, always being featured. This softer side was quiet, caring, gentle. It was special. And I selfishly wanted it to be mine. A side of Cato only I could see. If nothing else, at least the Capitol could give me that.

Our District was close to the Capitol so the train ride wasn't too long. A few hours, tops. Before long we were pulling into the station and the excited cheers from the Capitol freaks that lined the footpaths gradually grew louder as we drew close.

I reached for my knife before remembering Cato had it. It was weird not being with it. It was kind of like a sixth finger, an extension to my hand. Whenever I was nervous it never failed to soothe me with its shiny blade and wicked sharp edge. I don't know why knives calmed me so much. You would think a girl my age would be more comfortable playing with dolls or something. But ever since I could walk I've always had a fascination for knives.

They were, as our Escort would put it, _fantastic_.

I stumbled out of my room, running my fingers through my hair groggily. When I appeared in the doorway to the main compartment, I felt four pairs of eyes land on me. Enobria and Brutus, our mentors for the Games. Our Escort, who looked away in terror as soon as I caught his eye and I couldn't help but smile a little. And of course Cato, his blue eyes watching me with a bit too much caution than I cared for. Like he was worried I might break down on him or something.

We were all silent when we pulled up to the station and the train finally came to a stop. Then Enobria was suddenly bustling around us, pushing us closer and telling us to 'smile and wave and make them love us.' All of which sounds a lot easier than it actually was. My legs began to shake as I thought about having to step off the train and walk through that crowd. For a moment, the entire carriage was shrouded in darkness and I felt Cato's hand slip into mine, squeezing it once for comfort, before the lights came on and the doors opened and Cato's hand was gone.

Just that moment of brief physical connection was enough though and I took a deep breath, smiling a more natural smile. 'I'm at the zoo,' I told myself. 'This isn't the capitol, it's the zoo. And they aren't the citizens of Panem, they are silly peacocks and other wild creatures that I am looking at. They can't hurt me. Not when they're in cages.' Thinking of them as animals seemed to work for me because within minutes we were inside a big building and the cheers and screams were completely cut off.

I sighed in relief and shot Cato a grateful look. He nodded his head just barely and I looked away. I hadn't wanted his help but I needed it. I needed his courage for being able to do crazy things without fear of judgement. He was good with people. I was good with solitude. And my knives. I was excellent with my knives.

* * *

We were shown into separate rooms, much like when we were getting our final goodbyes. Only this time, instead of comforting wooden panels and comfortable chairs that smelled like home, the room was steel walled with cold concrete floor with a stiff gurney like bed and the smell of disinfectant saturated the air.

I suddenly felt claustrophobic when the door shut behind me and I heard a lock click. I lunged at the door, my small frame doing next to nothing against the steel. On impact, my arms began to ache painfully and I wondered dully if I'd broken it. Wouldn't that be just _fantastic_ when I went into the Arena.

In pain I stumbled backwards, cursing my stupidity. Why would they have a room that someone could easily escape from? Where would be the fun? It would be a pain to have to replace a Tribute at this early stage and I considered knocking myself unconscious but decided against it. More likely they would just force me awake. And if by some miracle I was sent back home, which was unlikely to happen, I would be the laughing stock of the District. Sent home on the first day because I managed to knock myself out.

The door opened and I whirled around, raising my fists to fight before remembering I wasn't at home. I was in the Capitol. Which was ironically the safest place in Panem. Three of the most extravagantly dressed Capitol residents I'd seen by far tottered over and began to titter over me, feeling my arms, legs, waist and face. They pulled me over to the gurney and forced me onto my back, two of them holding me down while the last stripped me down until I was completely naked.

No-one had prepared me for this and suddenly I was bucking on the table, desperate to escape. I saw one of the ones holding me down murmur something unintelligible to the other and they both nodded, turning to the other expectantly. He shook his head, inspecting something on a metal tray they had brought over with them.

When he turned to me holding a sick looking paste I wondered what on earth they were and stopped my struggles for a moment. Then they started to put the past everywhere except my neck and face, covering almost every inch of my body. I watched them apply strips of white things on top and I asked them what they were doing, my voice strained.

They all ignored me, and without warning, one of the strips was suddenly yanked off, pulling most of the hair from my arms with it. I began to buck again, deciding this was the most cruel an unusual punishment in the world. My teeth were gritted against the pain so I didn't scream, but pained gasps escaped me a lot.

When it was over I collapsed backwards on my gurney, panting from the effort. I'm sure if I'd co-operated better it probably wouldn't have hurt as much but I didn't even care. When they lifted me and carried me into a bath filled with thick creamy water, I scrabbled at the shirts, desperate to not be put into it. Who knew what the fouls smelling water would do to me. Dye my skin green? Leave me with scales? I didn't want to know.

But they dumped me in regardless and I cried out in shock, the water feeling too heavy on my skin. I tried to sit up but they pushed me back in with such force that my head was fully submerged. I came back up, choking for air and sputtering the foul water from my mouth, and was almost grateful when they pulled me out, until they carried me back to the gurney for another round of the hair pulling.

Three times I was dunked into that stupid bath. By the end of it, I was breathless and panting, struggling to catch my breath. My skin was completely hairless and as silky as satin, and I hated it.

They began to work on my hair, my eyebrows, my nails and finally, after what seemed like days, they were finished. They all tottered out, tittering cheerfully to themselves, pleased that they had done such a splendid job. I disagreed. But at least it was over.

Finally able to sit up without constraints, I looked around for my clothes, reaching for my shirt desperately when the door opened and Cato stepped in. In horror I covered my chest with my arm, ducking my head in embarrassment. He was completely naked also and escorted by two more crazily dressed Capitol people. I looked away when he sat beside me and one of his escorts slapped my arm down.

"What took yours so long," Cato murmured when the two turned away to discuss their options. I looked at him and was pleased he had the good grace to be looking at my face and not... Anywhere else. "Apparently hairless Egyptian cats are in fashion here," I muttered back, relaxing slightly when he chuckled. I glanced at his arms, feeling suddenly envious when I realised he was allowed to keep his hair.

Our two crazy attendants began to talk to us very quickly, telling us about our costumes and I realised they were our stylists. They hurried away to a rack of clothes that I hadn't even noticed until now before tittering cheerfully on their way back to us. There was a few minutes where they just squeezed our arms and inspected every inch of our bodies and I struggled to keep my chin up as my face went furiously red. Obviously being naked in the Capitol was not an uncommon thing.

I had to say, the sight of the clothes on the racks did calm me down a little. It meant that we would be wearing something, no matter how skimpy, to the Opening Ceremonies. And I counted this as a blessing because I'd seen many a tribute go up in those big black horse drawn carriages without a scrap of clothing on. And they were expected to stand tall, shoulders back, and revel in the glory of their body.

I wouldn't be able to do that if I tried.

They helped us into our costumes, chatting away merrily, first to us, then to each other when they realised we didn't give a damn about their silly little extravagant lives. Sure, District 2 was very close with the Capitol, closer than the other other Districts definitely, but that didn't mean I had to care what they were saying. I rubbed a spot on my wrist where my knife was usually hidden and I wondered what had happened to it. Surely, Cato's crew of helpers had confiscated it or something, and my heart panged hopelessly. Could I not have anything in this stupid place from home? Not my hair, not my knife, not my privacy, not my dignity.

Only when we were fully dressed did they shut up (thank god) and then they both turned to me. Their quick fingers fiddled with my hair and I struggled to keep my face blank as they tugged sections almost out of my head. It was one thing to throw a tantrum when I was alone. In front of Cato, especially after how I acted on the train, was another thing entirely. That moment of weakness I'd inadvertently let him see was not something I wanted him to ever witness again.

When I thought it was finally over I heaved a weary sigh of relief. Of course, it couldn't be over too soon. Because when our Stylists turned back to us, they held make-up in their hand. I blanched, suddenly hating my life more than I had a few hours ago. I'd take the pain of a thousand hairs being ripped from my skin over being made up like a porcelain doll I had seen in the shop windows back home.

I considered running. But one look at my shoes, big clunky golden boots, made me dismiss that thought immediately. Sure, I was fast. But these boots were heavy, dangling off the side of my gurney half a meter from the ground, almost dragging me from my seat. I wouldn't get to the door before one of the Stylists dragged me back. So I sat in silence, screwing my nose up in irritation when they started on my eye make-up.

I didn't look in the mirror when we left, feeling absolutely ridiculous in my heavy golden outfit. But I waited in the doorway for Cato who stood admiring himself from every angle until I stormed over and dragged him away.

Self righteous arse.

* * *

Gathered around our Chariot, Enobria and Brutus murmured encouraging things like 'stand straight, chin up' and 'don't forget to smile sweetie'. I tuned them out, watching the other tributes file in looking absolutely ridiculous in their costumes.

At least from looking at Cato I knew we looked strong and powerful, since he looked like a gladiator. But I noticed that from District 8 the tributes were dressed as clowns, or jesters, or some other similarly dressed figure. And from District 5, they looked like big sparkly power lines. Nothing made me giggle as much as District 1 though. The girl looked smashing and I glared at her jealously when I realised Cato had noticed her too. But the boy looked completely ridiculous, decked out in pink, sparkling pink. He even had a fluffy pink boa. He held his head high though and he and his partner talked cheerfully to each other as if they loved their outfits. Fools. Even District 8 looked better than them, and that was saying something.

Cato nudged me when District 12 came in and I looked at them in awe. They were decked out in all black, with the girls hair done up beautifully on her head. Her stylist was talking to her quietly and she nodded, flicking her head over to us as if she could feel our eyes on her. I put on my best sneer and crossed my arms across my chest, staring at her with as much pompousness as I could muster. I needn't have bothered. Her eyes flicked dismissively over me and landed on Cato curiously. His eyes were narrowed and his head tilted down slightly, as if he were looking down on her. She turned away, a flicker of fear in her eyes.

I felt like hitting something. I knew how worthless I was next to Cato. But this girl had dismissed me so quickly, as if I wasn't even a threat. I stroked my wrist, itching for a knife. She would be mine. A satisfying kill if any kill could be.

When we were all loaded onto our chariots, Enobria took my hand, capturing my attention.

"Ignore the crowds sweetie. They are beneath your notice. Just look powerful. Strong. You are District 2, and you are _not_ to be overlooked," she told me earnestly. I nodded and she freed my hand. I began to tremble as the nerves kicked in and Cato slipped his hand into mine like he had on the train. We weren't moving yet so I looked to him desperately, calming down immediately when my eyes were locked on his.

"Just relax Clove. You'll be _fantastic_," he murmured. The carriages began to move and he dropped my hand. As one we turned to face the front. We placed our hands on the rail in front of us and stared straight ahead, chin up, shoulders back. When our pictures appeared on the big screen I couldn't help but admire how powerful we looked, decked out in heavy golden gladiator outfits. Though I hated make up I had to admit our Stylists had done a _fantastic_ job. We didn't look like the fragile dolls. We looked like powerful fighters.

And then we were gone from the screen and the crowd suddenly went wild. Surely not for District 3. No. On the screen. The tributes from District 12. They were on fire.

It was then that I realised that I didn't need to worry about Cato. Next to him I was Worthless and Forgettable. But compared to these alien looking creatures from 12, we were as harmless as a new born puppy. Beside me, Cato stiffened, the muscles on his arms tightening and I knew he realised this too. The two from District 12 were ruining everything. The natural order of the tributes was disrupted as soon as they had appeared. And they must be stopped.

When we got off our chariots, Enobria and Brutus were by our sides instantly, showering us with praise. But we both ignored them, glaring at the Girl who was on fire. Her district partner looked lost and I knew why. Even though he was on fire, he couldn't do the whole 'strong and defiant' routine that his partner was so good at. He was entirely Forgettable next to her. I knew how that felt.

Her stylist hugged her when the flames went out and began to talk to her before their mentor, Haymitch (who was apparently famous for taking a head dive off the stage at the Reaping), tapped her shoulder, pointing at us.

We both crossed our arms and glared at her. Although for all the attention she paid to me, I may as well been invisible. She nodded to us, or rather, to Cato, and followed Haymitch to one of the elevators. Cocky bitch. I'd show her that I was not someone to overlook so easily.

And suddenly, these Games had meaning to me. It wouldn't be just about helping Cato in any way I could. It would be about me, proving to _her_, to the Capitol, to everyone back home and everyone across Panem; I was a contender. And I was going to fight my arse off to prove it.


	2. If we say jump, You jump

**If we say Jump, you Jump. **

When Enobria finally let us go to the elevators, all but one were full. We took it, ignoring the tributes that waited inside. It was Districts 10 and 11, and I caught sight of a tiny sprite of a girl, with a halo of leaves in her wavy black hair. She couldn't be older than 12. Feeling my eyes on her, she turned to smile at me and I stared at her in shock. Didn't she know that we would probably be killing each other in less than a week?

Before I could return her smile the elevator stopped and Enobria pushed us out, herding us into the apartment we would be living in for the week.

It was very nice, I had to admit. Lavishly decorated with furry rugs that softened your footfalls when you walked, shiny hardwood floors hidden beneath them, plump couches made of satiny leather and a grand fireplace with fake flames that gave off real heat. I took my time exploring the first room, running my hands over everything I could find. When we got to the kitchen my eyes caught sight of a shiny new knife set and I grinned, making a beeline for them. Before I could pull one out, Brutus gave a shrill whistle and I turned around guiltily. Cato popped his head around one of the great marble pillars that supported the roof and we made our way over meekly.

We sat on one of the couches that he indicated and Enobria and Brutus sat across from us, watching us with calculated precision.

"First, some ground rules. Clove: you are not to touch the knives in the kitchen. Here, catch." I barely had to time to reach up and grab the object he threw before it hit me in the face and I didn't have to look at it to know what it was. "My knife!" I cried ecstatically. Brutus nodded, indicating my sleeve and I got the message. Keep it hidden.

"Secondly, no fighting between each other. We want a happy, friendly pair of tributes, unlike last year." We all shivered when we thought back to the tributes from District 2 last year. The boy had hated his partner so much that he had killed her while she slept on the first night. Entertaining for the Capitol, disgracing for our District.

"Thirdly, you are to listen to everything Enobria and I tell you. If we say jump, you jump. Got it?" We both nod and he lets us leave. I disappear down the corridor, ducking into my room before anyone can call me back. I lock the door, not wanting Cato to come barging in, and get ready for bed, scraping off my make-up and stripping down until I was naked and my costume was lying dejected on the floor. In the drawers beside my bed I find clothes, and slip into a plain white T and black training shorts.

As soon as my head hits the pillow I'm out like a light.

* * *

I was woken the next morning at 5, according to my digital clock. I groaned and got dressed quickly in my training outfit and stumbled into the kitchen. Cato appeared a few minutes after me, looking to be in one of his moods, and I got my breakfast ready in silence. Enobria came over just as I was finishing up and grabbed my plate away, scraping half my portion off onto another plate and giving it to Cato. I started to protest before remembering the third rule from last night: _If we say jump, you jump._ So I didn't argue, just took my now smaller serving with me to the table and began to eat.

Cato sat across from me, staring at his plate in disbelief. He was much bigger than me and I could hear his stomach rumbling from where I sat. I caught Enobria's eye and gave a pointed look to his meal but she shook her head.

"Whatever you eat, Cato can eat to sweetie. You should both get used to smaller servings anyway. When you're out in the Arena there will be no telling how much food you might get," she said apologetically. She disappeared from the room and I sighed, reaching across to Cato's untouched helping. He opened his mouth, probably to yell at me, but stopped when he realised I was scraping more of my food onto his plate. When I slid it back across the table he stared at me in confusion and I shrugged, digging in.

We ate in silence and when we were finished, Brutus wandered in. He ushered us into the lift without speaking and we did as he wanted. When the lift stopped he pushed us out and we found ourselves in the training room. I turned around, taking it all in, my eyes falling on a weapons cart, or rather the big curved knife in the middle of the weapons cart. I started forward eagerly when Brutus suddenly grabbed my arm and yanked me back. I stumbled backwards and glared up at him before remembering; _if we say jump, you jump_.

"No knives?" I asked sadly, already knowing the answer before he shook his head. "Training doesn't start until 8. Until then, you will be running track. Get fit. I want to see how fast you can run, and for how long. Now go."

So we ran. We ran for an hour straight, no breaks. When he told us to stop, Cato stopped dead where he was and doubled over, panting. I didn't bother with that, I just flopped onto the ground and lay on my back, staring up at the ceiling. What was the point of this? We were going to be exhausted by the time the trainings began and what good what that be? I felt the mat beside me sink slightly and I glanced beside me to see Cato, the front of his shirt completely drenched in sweat. His eyes were shut and his chest rose and fell quickly as he panted, struggling to get his breath back.

Even though it was technically against the rules, our District sent us to specialised training schools instead of normal school, so running wasn't something either of us were new too. But sprinting for an hour around a small running track, with no breaks, no water, no rests for anything. That was definitely new. After only a few minutes Brutus made us get up and jog to 'warm down' and by the time he pushed us back into the elevator I felt ready to collapse.

When we reached our apartment I actually did collapse, onto the soft cushions of the sofa. Cato took the second one and I closed my eyes, ready to sleep before we have to go down to the actual training. But apparently there's not time for that. Enobria comes in and makes us sit up, prepping us for the interviews that will take place in a couple days. She talked non-stop, occasionally leaning over to push back my shoulders or tug at the corner of Cato's mouth to make him smile. Only one sentence really stuck with me though.

"You need to be perfect; you need to make sure they remember you."

Well then. I was completely fucked.

* * *

When it was time for training to really begin Cato and I were one of the first people there. Our shirts had been swapped for plain black shirts and our stylists had been called in to make us look like we were fully rested. I felt like death warmed over, already sick of this training room. A lady up the front was speaking to us, telling us the rules of the room: Don't fight with the other tributes, don't just go straight to the weapons, try all the stations. I just wished that I could get the hooked knife into my hands. But Brutus had told us in the elevators that we were to go and make friends with the other Career tributes and do what they wanted.

I decided I'd just follow Cato. I was too tired to try to be nice to anyone but Cato walked over to the boy from 1 confidently, extending his hand. Without hesitation they shook hands and Cato grinned, beckoning me over. I smiled at them for a moment but the boy (who was currently introducing himself as Marvel) had already turned back to Cato. Instead I caught the girls eyes and she grinned at me, rolling her eyes as if to say 'boys.' I grinned back at her, deciding I liked her much better.

She introduced herself as 'Glimmer' and I told her I was Clove. She choked back a laugh and I felt my eyes narrow slightly. She had a name like Glimmer but was laughing at mine? Maybe I didn't like her as much as I thought.

As the morning went on I decided I couldn't stand either of the District 1 tributes. They held themselves in such a way that said 'We are District 1 and we are better than all of you.' Marvel at least could pull it off slightly, when he wasn't sparring with Cato. Glimmer was absolutely useless though; she couldn't throw a knife to save herself, her aim was off when she tried to use the bow, she had no strength to lift anything heavier than a few kilo's and she got tired after one lap of the circuit. But she had volunteered so there had to be something special about her. I just didn't know what.

When it was lunchtime, Cato grabbed two of the tables and pulled them together so we could fit. He beckoned over the tributes from 4 as well, although from one glance I knew they would be useless. Usually it was the boy that was better and more skilled than his female counterpart. But in the case of District 4, I knew it wouldn't be that way. The boy was rather small, smaller than even me, and probably only 13 or 14. He didn't speak throughout the meal, looking awkward as his eyes darted around the room. He was rather forgettable, and so I forgot about him and turned my attention back to the conversation.

Cato was loud and exuberant, just like he was back in the District. I loved watching him like that. And as I started coming into the conversation, I realised so did someone else.

Glimmer was staring at Cato as if he was a the best thing since sliced bread. My stomach churned horribly and I scowled at her, balling my hands into fists under the table. Cato was sitting beside me and didn't miss the change in me, shooting me a glance when Marvel started to talk. He cocked his head to the side but I shook my head, forcing a smile. When Marvel finished his story Glimmer was giggling and he looked at us expectantly. I realised we were supposed to laugh and forced one out, suddenly not in the mood for jokes. Cato was much better at it than I and the weird look Marvel shot to us was only for me.

After lunch we were allowed to go back up to our apartment and Cato came up behind me, grabbing my arm. I tugged it out of his grip and turned slowly to face him. He had his head cocked to one side in question but I shook my head, not wanting to talk about it. Mostly because I didn't understand myself why I was so mad. I started walking away but heard his soft footsteps behind me and sighed. I obviously wasn't getting this afternoon to myself.

When I reached my room I stepped to the side and ushered him through first. He opened the door and walked in slowly, appraising the room critically.

My costume from last night was still tossed messily on the ground, and my bed sheets were rumpled from the night before. He sat gingerly on the end of it and patted the mattress beside him, inviting me to sit. So I did, folding my legs underneath me and leaning my head on his shoulder.

"What's wrong?" he asked when I was settled. He didn't waste time at least.

"Glimmer."

"What? Glimmer? Why? She's useless!"

"Exactly."

He stared at me for a moment then laughed, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. I shrugged him off, sitting up straighter.

"It's not funny Cato. She's absolutely the biggest waste of space I've ever met. She can't shoot, she can't throw, she can't run, she can't even lift a fucking weight! And she goes around acting like she's better than us, just because she's from 1. At least Marvel is handy with a spear. What good will she do us in the Arena? She's just..." I trailed off, running out of words.

He nodded, as if he understood.

"Does she even have any good points?" I snap suddenly, my temper flaring.

"Well, she's hot," Cato said, as if that made everything better.

I turned to glare at him, jumping to my feet. Before I can think I've grabbed his arm and I'm shoving him from my room, slamming the door in his face. He starts to protest and I hear him try the handle. I shove my full weight into the door, shutting it before he can open it properly and I fumble for the lock. When its clicked into place I stumble back, my hands clenched and trembling.

I try to tell myself that I kicked him out because he was being just like all the other boys back home, hitting on girls for nothing other than their good looks rather than because of their personalities. But something within me knows that it was something more than that, that even though that fool could do nothing right, she had still managed to get Cato's attention without having to open her mouth.

He's shouting through the door to let me in but I ignore him, flicking out my knife and stroking it gently. It's a little sad to think that in a few days I wont be able to have my knife with me any more. There would be no way the Game makers will let me keep my knife.

All of a sudden Cato stops shouting, mid sentence, and I strain my ears to hear what's going on. Apparently he had roused Enobria from her sleep and she didn't sound happy. And then she's knocking on the door so I push my hair back and hold my knife ready, although I know I wouldn't dare use it on anyone in the apartment, and I unlock the door slowly. Enobria is standing in the door frame, her eyes narrowed in annoyance. She takes one look at me and her face softens suddenly. I relax, although I'm slightly confused.

"Go wait in the sitting room, I'll be out in a moment sweetie," she says calmly, pushing me out past Cato. Cato looks absolutely livid but I do as she says, hurrying off down the corridor. I hear Cato start to follow but when I turn the corner and glance back, he's still standing outside my room, whispering heatedly with Enobria.

I sit on the couch and glare into the fireplace, fiddling with my knife. After a few minutes of impatient waiting I stand and start to pace, getting more and more agitated the longer I'm alone. When I hear the footsteps, I whirl around and throw my knife, letting it get lodged into the wooden panelling beside Cato's head. It wasn't meant to hit him. If it was, he would be dead already. Even so, his hands reach up slowly to pull the knife from the crack and suddenly Enobria is shouting, yelling at me for being stupid. Her hand comes up and connects with my face with a ringing crack and I drop my chin, tears stinging my eyes.

I arrange my features into a blank look and slowly look up, meeting Enobria's angry glare with my own. Because I can't disguise the hatred, so I don't try. She looks away, her cheeks going slightly pink as she realises what she's done. Its not exactly illegal for a mentor to lay a violent hand on their tribute, but it certainly is frowned upon.

Before the silence is too long, Cato walks over and hands me my knife, and although he hasn't spoken I know what he's trying to say. So I don't say a word either, just wrap my arms around his waist and hug him tightly. Enobria looks stunned at our exchange but she doesn't say anything, indicating the sofa silently. We take our seats, sitting up straight without being told, and she begins her lecture, this time about how we should be conducting ourselves around the other tributes: Never reveal too much about our talents, keep the fighting to a minimal, follow District 1. The last rule made my anger rise again and Cato slipped his hand into mine, squeezing it gently.

It made sense of course. I could see her reasoning behind it. It wasn't the whole following part that bugged me. It was the fact that I knew if we did it, they would become more up themselves than they already were. They would see themselves as the leader. I suppose that would make something easier of course. When it came the time that we could kill them, they it would be so much simpler if they thought they were better than us. Their arrogance would be the perfect weapon to use against them. But I hated the fact that we had to boost their egos. Not that it would be hard. It would be dead simple actually.

Brutus walked in and made us go for another run down in the now empty training centre. By the time we we got back to the apartment I was ready to just die. But of course, I couldn't do that. According to our escort, we still had to wait for our _fantastic_ dinner.

So I curled up on the couch, my head in Cato's lap and watched the TV, but there wasn't really anything on. There was the highlights from the Opening ceremony but I didn't want to watch that. The presenters were practically wetting themselves with excitement over District 12 and their _fantastic_ costumes. I flicked channels and suddenly I was watching recaps of the previous games. I realised after a few moments that it was a countdown of the 'best deaths', as voted by the residents of the Capitol.

I'd apparently started watching right at the end of the program and I sat up slowly, watching curiously. It was already down to the top 5, each death more violent then the last. And then there is number 1 and I freeze, my eyes glued to the screen even though I know I shouldn't watch.

It's Enobria, but she's much younger on screen than I had seen her in life. Only 17. I remember hearing about her Games in school, how she had ripped out the final tribute that stood between her and being a Victor's throat with her teeth. Whenever they showed the actual footage of her doing it, I'd always had an excuse to not see. Because I'd met Enobria before and I hadn't wanted that image I had of her being shattered. Here, I had no excuse. Here, I could sit and watch the clip over and over with a few simple pushes of a button.

So I do.

And I'm horrified. Enobria, so gentle and calm here, was such a ruthless killer. And this, her final kill, was the most popular death? The most barbaric death I'd ever watched, couldn't never watch again, and the Capitol voted it most popular. They replayed it multiple times, slowing it down to frame by frame so you could actually see her teeth sink into his neck. See the light go out in his eyes as death welcomed another fallen. And when she threw the now dead body of the fallen tribute away, they zoomed in on her face. Her lips slowly pulling up in a smile as she realised she had won, her hand wiping away the tributes blood from her chin.

I bolt. I only just managed to get to my room in time, and when I did I had to crawl to my bathroom before I heaved up the contents of my stomach into the toilet. Cato didn't appear this time and I was grateful. After today, I didn't need him here to see me do this again.

When I was finished I trembled violently, still feeling rather nauseous about the whole thing. I knew that when I saw Enobria next it would be in a completely new light. Her Capitol-ly enhanced teeth would be a lot more significant.

But then there's a knock on the door and she was calling me to dinner. I called back a shaky 'I'm coming!' and quickly cleaned up. The hot towel Cato had used yesterday was still there on the bench so I used that, rinsing it under the tap first. Before I left I grabbed my toothbrush and brushed my teeth, hating the taste that lingered even after I'd finished. But there was no more I could do so I hurried out, pale and still trembling, to the kitchen.

Cato was already sitting at the table and I knew he had not had the same reaction I had. Then again, he'd probably seen that footage back home, so the horror wouldn't be as fresh to him. When our food was served, only a quarter of what we would normally eat on our plates, I prodded it with my fork, suddenly not hungry. Enobria chattered away obliviously throughout the meal and my stomach churned every time her teeth clacked against one another. Finally I shoved my untouched plate over to Cato and excused myself, hurrying back to my bedroom.

When I got to the door I decided against going in. It wouldn't help matters. I stumbled away, down the corridor, and stopped outside of one of the doors. I didn't bother knocking since everyone was still eating. I just opened the door and stepped in, stepping over the mess of broken jars and vases that littered the floor. I wondered vaguely why no-one had cleared the mess before collapsing onto the bed, curling up into a ball. My hands gripped my sides tightly, my fingernails, made sharp by my annoying prep team, digging in. I didn't cry, or scream. I just lay there, my face screwed up as my nails pierced my skin, in silence.

I don't know how long I laid there before Cato found me. I heard his boots crunch over the mess of broken glass but didn't look up. Without a word, he lay down on the bed behind me, curling his muscular body around my smaller frame. His hands tugged on my arms until I loosened up, and I glanced down at my nails, cakes in my own blood. He hugged me tightly, burying his face in my air and released a long sigh, pressing his lips ever so gently to my neck.

It was the closest I'd ever been to a boy before in my entire life but I didn't see it as romantic and I knew he didn't either. Although I didn't really know how he saw it. Through my eyes, it was just him, holding me together as all the pieces of me threatened to break. I knew from the shattered mess on his floor that he had already passed his breaking point. So maybe that was how he was seeing it too, only the other way around. I twisted in his arms slowly so I was facing him and I rested my head onto his chest.

The steady rhythm of his heart soothed me and I timed my breathing to each beat. In, out. One beat, two beats. His hands tightened their hold on me, his fingers digging into my sides. But I didn't mind the pain. It was similar to how I'd been lying before, only it was his hands that held me together now, not my own.

We fell asleep this way, and when we were woken by Brutus the next morning, I almost didn't want to leave. This peaceful compromise we had come to was so nice. My body ached from all the exercise I had done but I didn't dare disobey Brutus. _If we say jump, you jump_.

* * *

Over the next few days, only one event stayed really clear in my mind. It was on the second day of training. Glimmer had decided she wanted to try archery again and was failing miserably at it. I had decided I didn't want to watch her so instead I surveyed the room. My eyes fell on the boy from 12, who was climbing a rope ladder. The muscles in his arms worked impossibly hard but I could tell he was close to breaking. I nudged Cato who in turn got Marvels attention and we all watched as he reached his limit, coming crashing onto the mat below. Cato and Marvel snickered and even Glimmer turned around to see what all the commotion was about.

When his female counterpart made her way over to him, Cato and I stood tall, smirking as she whispered to him. He glanced over and I saw a flicker of fear in his eyes for a moment before he pushed himself to his feet shakily and walked over to the weights station. He reached for one of the weight balls, a large heavy iron ball which had to weigh at least 10 kilos. With one hand he picked it by the handle and walked slowly with it off the mat.

He took two steps and lugged the great big ball over his head, sending it flying a good few meters where it crashed into one of the weapons carts and the weapons scattered across the floor. My mouth dropped in awe and even Cato looked slightly impressed by the display. We turned away quickly before he could look at us and I decided if we ever needed another tribute to be our Ally, I wanted him.

* * *

The Showcase day came before long but I was ready. Only my legs still ached when I woke up that morning and I counted that as a blessing. Since the second night, I slept in Cato's room, curled up in his arms so that sleep came to me easily. We were both fine with the arrangement and neither of our mentors seemed to have a problem with it. If they did, they didn't voice it.

We were called up in order of our district so Marvel went first, then Glimmer, then Cato. The room we had been forced to wait in was deathly silent and filled with so much nervous energy that it was almost palpable. When my name was called I jumped, totally lost in thought, and hurried into the room, making sure my knife was hidden safely in my sleeve.

When I got inside I headed straight for the knives, selecting a few of the smaller ones and fitting them into the gaps between my fingers. I looked up at the Game makers who gestured for me to begin, then walked over to the training dummies. With quick practised motions, I flicked my risk quickly letting each knife fly separately at different targets. All hit the dead centre of the training dummies and I heard the Game makers murmur amongst themselves.

When I went to grab a larger knife I shot a quick glance to them and hid a smile. They were nodding in appreciation and I knew it was out of respect. Not many people could hit dead on centre of every target.

"I you liked that, this will blow your mind," I muttered quietly, heading over to the rope ladder. I climbed up to the top with the knifes handle in my mouth and hung from the top rung with my legs holding me in place. From here I was a good twenty meters away from the closest training dummy, and thirty from the one I wanted to hit. I rocked myself back and forth to get the momentum I needed and readied the knife, sizing up my target.

The room was oddly hushed and I took a deep breath, taking one final swing before I arched backwards I tossed my knife. I listened for the tell tale thunk as my knife hit home in the dead centre of the dummy and I grinned, flipping down and landing softly on my feet. I hurried over, tugging it from where it wobbled slightly in the dummy and turned to the Game makers, bowing slightly.

A few of them were clapping and I allowed myself a tiny smile. I deserved a 10 for sure.

When I got back to the apartment I found everyone was already waiting for me. I went straight to the sofa where Cato sat and curled up into his side, listening as he told us about his own private session with Game makers. When I told them how I went they all whistled appreciatively and Cato grinned down at me, slipping his hand into mine.

We had to wait a few hours for the results but when they finally appeared on the screen (both of us getting 10's) Enobria squealed like a 12 year old and hugged us both. I couldn't help but smile cruelly when I saw that Glimmer only got an 8. But I'm curious as to what she had shown them though. She had no talent whatsoever during the trainings so either she was holding out on us or she had somehow managed to impress them with her supposed beauty.

Everyone leaves us when our scores are over but I want to watch the rest of them, see if there is any tributes I need to really watch out for. Most of them score quite pathetically low, with 5's and 6's but I'm rather impressed when Rue, the tiny black haired girl from 11 gets a 7. District 12 is last and the boy gets an 8, which I had expected from that second day after the iron ball. What surprises me though is when the girl somehow manages an 11.

Cato and I both sit up straighter at this and I almost choke on my drink. An 11. Honestly, who was this girl? First she upstage us at the Opening ceremonies and then she gets a fucking 11 in training? It had to be a joke or something. Maybe an error made by the Capitol. But the presenter is adamant that she got an 11 and is raving about how it's the highest score he's seen for a long time in the Games.

"It was a fluke. There's no way," Cato muttered. But I'm speechless. Because somehow this nobody from 12 was showing us all up.

"I'll kill her, even if it's the last thing I do," I snarl viscously, shutting the TV off and storming to Cato's room.

* * *

On the night of the interviews I end up in prepping for well over an hour. I didn't mind as much as I had the first time though. The hair removal took a lot less time and I was prepared for the pain. The make-up still bothered me but I endured it. The dress was pretty at least; bell shaped and made of soft golden silk. And the shoes were high heels, adding to my height a few inches so I was only two head shorter than Cato rather than my usual three. Most of the time was spent on my hair; taming my wild tendrils and styling it into beautiful flowing curls that cascaded down my back. I would've been more comfortable with my normal waves but my stylist insisted and I guessed the rule of no arguing extended to the stylists too.

Cato was dressed in a smart suit with his tie a light golden colour to match my dress and he took my hand, twirling me once so my skirt flew out.

"You look amazing!" he said appreciatively and I ducked my head to hide my blush. "You don't look too bad yourself," I manage to say.

And then we're swept backstage and forced to wait in line. I'm behind Marvel and Glimmers up first, wearing a ridiculous pink dress with frills that spewed glitter when she walked. Her three minutes were spent with her giggling a lot and being the biggest ditz I'd ever seen. I suppose it was what she was best at.

When Marvel went up, I was glad he had a bit more substance, but he was as boring as a stick. No personality.

And then my name was called and Cato was pushing me up on-stage. I walked across carefully, beaming at the crowd and waving, praying that I didn't trip in the heels that I still wasn't too used to. Caesar Flickerman, his hair a bright blue, started the ball rolling by asking how I found the other Tributes.

"Well, compared to you lot they all look rather normal, don't they?" I say sweetly. They all roar with laughter and I grin easily. Such simple minded fools. "They are, aren't they! But dear, I meant how do you find them, competition wise?"

A more serious question and I pretended to think about it, since the answer that came to me first seemed a little harsh. And then I realised I didn't care. So I batted my eyes and reached over to Caesar, patting his knee gently and I beckoning him closer. "I was hoping for more of a challenge," I say in a clear stage whisper. And then they're laughing again and Caesar chuckles along merrily. The rest of my interview is over in a flash and I wave, skipping off the stage as Cato's called up.

When he appears on stage the crowd goes mental and I smile, pleased that he seems to be a favourite. His interview flies by, with him being overly cocky and a little bit rash. At one point, he takes off his jacket and flexes his muscles for the crowd, sending them into a frenzy and I lean against the wall, suddenly dizzy. It's over all too soon and they're calling up the girl from District 3 so I pull myself together and roll my eyes at him when he comes off stage.

"Enjoy the show?" he asked teasingly and I laugh, poking him in the stomach. "I've seen better," I say simply, starting off down the corridor. But he has other plans apparently because he scoops me into his arms and carries me off somewhere, ignoring my protests.


	3. I'm dead We're all dead

**I'm dead. We're all dead. **

The last night of freedom with Cato is the best. We sit up talking in his room about absolutely everything. How we think life is going on back in the District. What our lives were like while we grew up. How we felt about the Reaping. Our true thoughts about the Games. And I learn that Cato isn't a spoiled rich boy like all my friends assumed. He was an older brother to a mentally handicapped little sister who had trained his entire life to become a Victor to make her and _only_ her proud. I guess that's where his softer side came from and I hug him tightly, scared that if I let go I won't get another chance to do so. I tell him about my knife (which has somehow been cleared by the board of Game makers for me to bring into the Arena), about how it was my grandfathers that he had brought after he won his own Games. And I tell him about my parents, who always pushed me to my limit but never seemed proud enough when I got the best grades in the class. I tell him about their parting words to me, how even they knew I couldn't win, and to my surprise there isn't any resentment in my voice. I'm emotionless, stating the facts, just like they were.

When dinner is sent he pulls me onto his lap and puts both plates on mine and we eat in comfortable silence. And then we fall asleep curled around each other as we always did.

Morning comes too soon, shattering the peace that we've only just managed to create. Cato had specifically asked for Enobria to be his escort down and I'm thankful because I still feel slightly nauseous whenever her teeth click. Brutus ushers me out to a waiting hovercraft that transports us to under the Arena and he sits with me in the Launch room. He helps me get ready, finding me the clothes that I'm supposed to wear in the Arena and helping me into them since my fumbling fingers don't seem to want to work, forcing me to eat breakfast and drink lots of water. His parting words of advice are to keep hydrated, eat regularly and to always have Cato's back. And when he tells me that I need to keep my feelings hidden after my kills I know he's heard about how squeamish I get around the dead.

I nod anyway and then there's a cool females voice telling us we have thirty seconds to get into the tubes. I hug Brutus tightly and tell him to say goodbye to Enobria for me and he nods silently, apparently not one for goodbyes. I make my way to the tube that will send my up to the Arena where I will fight to the death, the female voice telling me that there is twenty seconds now. I have no doubts in my mind that I won't come back from here and the thought makes tears spring to my eyes. Brutus seems to notice and he walks over and takes my hand in his, much like how Cato did whenever I was agitated, and I'm touched at the gesture.

At the ten second mark a glass wall rises slowly and cuts us off and we just stare at each other, his familiar eyes bringing me comfort. And then the tube is rising so I turn to face the front and close my eyes so I'm not blinded when we come up into the Arena.

* * *

It's bright when I open my eyes. There's a glare reflecting from the Cornucopia, gold spiral horn that protrudes from the middle of the Arena. Weapons and packs filled with food and huge crates with untold treasures are bunched up at the mouth of the Cornucopia and I know that's where my first battle lies. The bloodbath, where my fellow Career tributes and I fight it out with the others and kill until we own the Cornucopia and in turn, the Games.

It's a different voice counting us in this time, starting at the minutes mark and I look around to all the other tributes. There's little Rue, looking more tiny than ever in a jacket that looks to be to big on her, and a few pedestals down, I catch sight of Thresh. He has his eyes surveying the layout but I have plenty of that for later so I don't bother. On my right I see the girl from 12, and she's caught her district partners eyes and she's distracted for a moment. And then the cannon fires and I leap from my pedestal and sprint to a big weapons cart I'd seen earlier, swiping up a knives kit. I see my first victim, a male struggling with a backpack near the edge of the Cornucopia and I toss one knife easily where it lands in the middle of his back. Even from behind him I can see the spray of blood from his mouth and I get my next knife ready, preparing for the next victim.

I can't believe my luck when I see 12 grab the backpack from the dead boys hands and start to run. I throw my knife with deadly accuracy but she lifts her bag over her head to take the hit and before I can get another knife, she's disappeared into the trees. Later than. It didn't matter. I would kill her when the time came.

With a final, desperate look to her I return to the Cornucopia and help my fellow Careers until we have no more adversaries. There are five of us; Myself and Cato, Glimmer, Marvel and the girl from four. I didn't bother learning her name. She would be dead soon enough. During the fighting I stop dead when I see the boy from 12; he has a spear and it's pointed straight at Cato. Before I can get my weapon free to hit him he's already thrown his and I cry out, too late. But as it flies by Cato I realise it was meant for someone behind him it hits its mark with a thunk and a body falls to the ground.

It's the boy from 4, a large hooked sword in his hands as he had attempted to kill Cato. But Cato hasn't seen him and he thinks the spear was meant for him and he turns to the boy with fury in his eyes. I dart over and lay a hand on his chest, shaking my head quickly before turning to 12.

"Well lover boy, that's certainly different," I sneer walking over to him. He extends his hand and I realise he wants to be allies. Well, he did just save Cato's life. So I take it and shake it once and he joins us, plucking another spear to use as his weapon.

And then there were 6.

When it's over, Cato appears by my side and offers me a pack which is apparently filled with knives and I grin up at him, reaching up to wipe away at a bit of splattered blood beneath his eye. Before we set out, we round up any weapons we might want to use to hunt and I choke back a laugh when I see Glimmer grab the bow and arrows leaning against a big black trunk. If she'd shown her pitiful archery skills to the Game makers I could see how she got an 8. She didn't have deadly precision like me but I suppose she had always managed to hit a stationary target.

When everyone's satisfied that we have everything we set off in search of our next victim. I count the cannons even though I've already counted the dead, just to make sure. 11 gone in a few hours. 11 being prepared for their homecoming, their lives shortened considerably because of us. Before I can really start thinking about it I grab a random knife and fling it at a tree, hurrying to retrieve it. Cato sends me a look but I shake my head. Hide my emotions after the kills. It didn't matter too much right now. I was more worried about when night fell. I knew the sleeping arrangements with Cato that we had developed seemed to have no place in these games.

* * *

We 'hunt' all day, though we don't find any one. Glimmer and Marvel lead the way, and they're loud and raucous, scaring away anything within 100 meters of us. Cato and I take up the rear letting 4 and 12 get acquainted. Lover boy doesn't speak too much though. His eyes are always on the woods.

As night begins to fall Cato pulls me aside on the pretext of helping him arrange his packs and the rest continue, still looking for another victim.

"Why is lover boy here?" he hissed angrily.

"He saved your life."

"Great. Thank him and kill him."

"He's handy with that knife."

"Is he handy with anything else? You heard Enobria and Brutus. Mix with the careers. We don't need any others."

"He could lead us to _her_."

This pulls him up short and he looks at me in the quickly falling darkness in awe. I hadn't actually thought about this until just now and suddenly I'm in love with the idea. Lover boy could lead us straight to her! He knew her better than anyone here anyway, so maybe he could even tell us how she got that 11.

As shadows begin to creep in, Cato makes me turn around and he fishes through my bag for a moment before pulling out two pairs of glasses, handing me one. I slip them on and suddenly I can see everything, from the individual leaves on the trees to a small fat lizard sliding through the undergrowth. We run to catch up with the other tributes, not a difficult task when they are still being ridiculously loud and the fact that they have only made it about 30 meters away.

The anthem begins to play and we stop to rest, watching as the faces of all the dead light up the sky. It skips all of us from District 1 and 2 since we are still here, and starts with the girl from District 3, before skipping to the boy from 4. This is good. Because I have a plan that involves the boy from 3 and it won't work if he's not alive. Then it's the boy from 5, both from 6 and 7, the boy from 8 and both from 9. The final face is the girl from 10. Only 13 left to go.

The anthem plays again and the sky goes black. We're considering setting up camp when Cato suddenly spots smoke rising from the trees over to our left. I hiss that we have to be quiet and we set off in a run, Cato and I taking the lead since we can see the best thanks to the glasses. We pause at the edge of the clearing and I shake my head at how stupid this girl is, building a fire so plainly at night. It was a bit chilly so I understood her reasoning. Oh well. Easier victory for us.

We argue quietly for a while about who gets to kill her, but she doesn't seem to notice. She must have fallen asleep. I think it should be Cato because he was the one who spotted the smoke in the first place but it ends up being Marvel because he thinks he's a better fighter. I'm seething with rage as he makes a messy job of it and her screams of protest ring in my ears long after we're gone.

And I notice something. I run to the front of our group and I hold up a finger, making them fall silent.

"What are you doing Clove, stop messing aroun-" Glimmer starts to say but Cato shoves her with an angry "Shut up for a second," and I hide a tiny smile. "Did you even kill her?" I sneer at Marvel.

He looks insulted for a moment before realising what I mean and his ego deflated a little bit. Good.

We stand and argue about whether or not she's dead for a bit before Peeta finally steps up and volunteers to go back and finish her. Cato nods and as soon as he's out of earshot Glimmer begins to speak in hushed tones.

"Why don't we just kill him now?"

Again it falls to me to fight for the boy, since I was the one who decided to let him in.

"Let him tag along. What's the harm? And he's handy with that knife."

'That knife' being one from my pack after he used up all the spears in the tributes back at the Cornucopia.

"Besides, he's our best chance of finding _her_," Cato points out, nudging me surreptitiously. Marvel didn't look convinced.

"Why? You think she bought into that sappy romance stuff?"

"She might have. Seemed pretty simple-minded to me. Every time I think about her spinning around in that dress, I want to puke."

Coming from Glimmer, queen of the simple-minded people. I bite back a sarcastic laugh.

"Wish we knew how she got that eleven," I said wistfully.

"Bet you Lover Boy knows," Glimmer remarks as if this is brand new information that none of us have thought of yet.

And then I hear his footsteps come closer so I raise a hand and we drop it.

"Was she dead?" Cato asks.

"No. But she is now. Ready to move on?" A cannon echoes above us, making his statement ring true an we set off at a run so the Hovercraft can collect the body.

* * *

We set up camp a while later when its clear that all the other remaining tributes have disappeared. Cato hands me his glasses and I put both of them into the waist of my pants for safe keeping. I suggest a shift while we sleep and Glimmer agrees almost instantly, volunteering me as the first one to take watch. Marvel seconds this and they both flop onto the ground, asleep in moments. I brush off Cato's attempts of taking my place and push him down. He needed the sleep more than me anyway. He lay his head into my lap and stared up at the sky, obviously not going to sleep. It wasn't like I could force him to anyway. Peeta and the girl from 4 sat up against a tree each and fell asleep slowly and soon it was just Cato and I and the sound of the others breathing.

"Who do you reckon will be the first to go?" he asked me quietly.

"From our group? Hopefully Glimmer," I replied quietly, shooting the girl in question a dirty look.

"You're still on that?"

"You still think she's hot."

"I was only joking."

"Not very funny."

"Why are we fighting?"

"Not fighting. I'm just stating the facts."

We fall silent and his eyes find mine in the darkness.

"She's nothing on you," he muttered, looking away. He starts to sit up but I place a hand on his chest and trap him there, starting to fiddle with his hair.

"Just drop it, OK?"

The silence is longer this time and his hands reach up to trap mine beneath his. I wonder if we're being featured on the screen right now. Unless there was a fight going on, there was a pretty good chance we were.

"Go to sleep Cato," I murmur, stroking his face with my thumb gently.

"Sing to me."

I laugh quietly and shake my head, bending over and pressing a gently kiss to his temple.

"Not in this lifetime."

* * *

I wake the rest of them later when the sun is high in the sky. Glimmer actually goes so far as to try and hit me but I'm prepared and dodge her weak punch and prod her with my boot.

"Get up lazy bones, we're going hunting!"

You can bet that gets them up and walking.

We walk for hours with the sun pouring down mercilessly and I find myself wanting water more and more as the time goes on. Finally, Glimmer stops where she is and sits down, crossing her arms over her chest sulkily.

"What are you doing?" I snap, my throat dry. She glares up at me, pouting like an insolent child. "It's too hot. I need a rest."

My temper flares and I lunge at her violently, my knife stopping short of her neck. I turn to glare at Cato who had grabbed me by the waist and was holding me back with an almost bored expression on his face.

"Why don't we all calm down and take a drinking break?" Peeta asked awkwardly and we all turn to stare at him. Who thought the boy from 12 would be our peace keeper here, in the midst of all the killing. I pull back and stand grumpily in Cato's arms, glaring at the girl who sits before me.

"What's your problem?" she snaps angrily. I ignore her, turning to Peeta expectantly. "Well, where's the water then?"

He dug around in his pack for a while before pulling from it three bottles filled to the brim with cool water. I snatched a bottle from his hand and drank almost a litre before handing it to Cato. The second bottle went to Glimmer and Marvel and the third was shared between Peeta and the girl from 4. We all rested for a while and I closed my eyes, growing weary from my lack of sleep the night before.

"We need to keep moving," Marvel finally said, almost in disappointment. I snap my eyes open and wriggle from Cato's arms, taking the bottle from him and gulping down the last two mouthfuls. We start hiking, all weapons at the ready, but we don't come across any other tributes.

Glimmer kept up a steady stream of complaints as we walked and I mimic her with overly dramatic gestures and facial expressions, quickly reverting back to my neutral face when she whipped around to see what everyone is laughing at. She grew more and more frustrated as the day went on and we still found no-one, before finally throwing a killer tantrum. I stopped where I was and began to giggle as she shouted and cursed at the sky, kicking a nearby tree trunk in the spur of the moment. When she began to hop around, this time cursing the tree as she complained of a broken foot, I wasn't the only one laughing.

I was the one she took her anger out on though, whirling around and loading her bow, pointing it in my general direction. No matter how bad a shot she was, we were about two meters away from each other and if she let that arrow fly it would not be pleasant. I pull my knife and hold it ready, ready to throw it if I needed to. Unlike her though, my knife would hit her in the neck and she would bleed out slowly and painfully.

"Come on pretty girl. What are you going to do? Shoot me? We all know my knife will kill you before you can get a shot off," I sneer, my voice steady thankfully.

"And if she dies, I'll kill you myself," Cato said simply.

She starts to pull back the bow strings when I hear it. A sudden roar of sound from behind her. And then the smell of smoke fills my nose.

"Fire," I said blankly. She laughed, pulling the bow until the strings were tight. "You want me to shoot you?" she asks incredulously. I shake my head, dropping my knife and pointing over her shoulder.

"Fire. It's a fucking fire. There's a.. Oh what the hell." And I bolted, leaving my knife where it was. I had a whole bag full, what did it matter if I lost one. I hear Glimmers terrified screech and I know that she's seen it too and my allies pounding feet sound behind me. I'm not sure where I'm running to, all I know is that I need to run from the great wall that cascades down upon us. It's no ordinary fire. I could tell by the way it moved with such speed and precision, seeming to only target section of woods where we were. If I could just outrun it, maybe I'd get lucky and not have to put up with Glimmer and her annoying whining for the rest of the Games. It wouldn't be too bad to kill off the others either, save for Cato of course.

The moment the thought crosses my mind I want to slap myself. So early in the games it is crucial that we keep our allies close. What was that old saying? Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. Or something like that. To me, that just meant I should have all the Tributes as my ally, aside from Cato. Because how much closer could they get, really.

Just when I think we've escaped the worst of it and I start slowing to a jog, I hear a hiss sound to my right and I yell for everyone to drop. They don't think, they just obey, and a fire ball misses Marvels head by inches. We start running again, fuelled by a new desire to escape the woods as more fire balls shoot from everywhere. When we hear the hiss, we drop, and when it's gone we run. I'm nearing the edge of the woods when I hear it.

Marvel, screaming for Glimmer. I turn, searching the ashen faces of my allies and realise she hasn't appeared. I saw what Marvel was about to do before he does it and I lunged at him, missing him my inches as he runs back towards the fire.

I don't think, I just do, and suddenly I'm back in the forest and helping Marvel drag Glimmer from the trees. She looks to have twisted her ankle on a protruding tree root and she hobbles as if stepping on it pains her. We are moving to slowly and when the final hiss sounds, Marvel has shoved the full weight of his District partner at me and I stagger backwards, only just managing not to drop her. I hoist her onto my back and start to jog, following Marvel as he fled the deadly forest.

As soon as I'm out of the forest and some rocks beside a river, I pitch forward and roll Glimmer off my back, panting from the effort. She hits the water with a mighty splash and screeches in indignation before catching the look in my eye. The look that says if she says one more word I would slit her throat then and there and laugh while she bled out.

We stay on the rocks, coughing and panting when Marvel hears it; the familiar sound of a struggling tribute splashing in the river. We look to where he's pointing and I give an ecstatic 'whoop' of joy.

It's the girl from 12. Let the fun stuff begin.

* * *

When Cato registers who she is, his yell is louder, and it carries over to the girl. She shoots us a look of panic and stumbles from the stream, clambering clumsily up the rocks and hobbling into the trees on the other side. I realised that she has been in the same fire pit we had escaped from, though she had much more serious injuries. While our biggest problem was the thick, acrid smoke making its way into our lungs, she had probably been hit by one of the fire balls, or ran into something or just been hit by the debris. Either way, she's injured. And everyone knows an injured animal is easier to slaughter.

We run through the water, yelling like absolute hooligans and probably looking like fools. But despite my lack of rest, or maybe because of, I'm suddenly excited to capture 12 and kill her. Then we can get rid of Lover boy, maybe after we find out how she scored that 11 in training. When we reach the edge of the forest, Cato charges through first, making an easy path to follow in his wake.

He stops suddenly, staring at a tree in front of him, and it takes me moment to realise that she's climbing. Her quick hands reach for safe places to grab and she hauls her slight frame up the tree easily. "How about that," I mutter to myself in awe.

She stops about halfway up and looks down at us, flashing a winning smile.

"How's everything with you?"

"Well enough. Yourself?" Cato replied civilly, playing along.

"It's been a bit warm for my taste. The air's better up here. Why don't you come up?"

"Think I will."

He shrugs off his pack and grabs the tree, pulling himself up quickly. But between him trying to hold a sword in one hand and his weight being too much for the branches to hold, there's a loud crack and he lands on his back, cursing loudly. I dart forward and help him up, a new wave of hatred for 12 hitting me despite it not being her fault that he fell.

Glimmer just snorted and pushed past us, beginning to climb up herself. When she gets to the thinner branches she has the good will to stop and get her bow ready. I see a flash of longing in 12s eyes for just a moment before its replaced with the hateful look of mockery and I know why. Everyone's seen Glimmer shoot. Or rather, all the tributes had seen her shoot. And when she fired two arrows, I knew both would miss miserably.

12 reached over and pulled an arrow from the tree trunk, waving it above our heads tantalisingly. She was messing with forces she shouldn't be messing with, and one way or another, it would get her killed. I'm about to climb, since I'm the smallest and at least if I get to where Glimmer managed I'd be able to hit her with my knife, when Peeta pipes up, his voice scathing.

"Oh, let her stay up there. It's not like she's going anywhere. We'll deal with her in the morning."

I volunteer Glimmer for the first watch and she's the only one to protest. Smiling in satisfaction at the idea that I might get a decent nights sleep, I curl up with Cato's arm acting as my pillow on the ground and I start to drift off.

I faintly hear the anthem play overhead but I ignore it since there has been no deaths today. My legs are used to all the running by now so they don't hurt at all, even though I'm sure I've ran more in the past 5 days than I have in a lifetime.

When the anthem is over I fall into a deeper sleep and I'm completely dead to the world.

* * *

I'm woken at dawn but I'm not really sure why. There's a faint buzzing in the air, something I can't place. Despite sleeping the entire night through I feel groggy and disorientated, no better rested than I had been before we slept. Cato is still snoring gently beside me and I smile softly, about to try to fall back asleep, when I see it. Or rather, her.

Glimmer, who was supposed to be keeping watch while we sleep, has fallen asleep, leaning up against the tree. I sit up violently, about to yell at her when there's a loud crack above our heads. I turn my yell into a scream and shove myself to my feet, grabbing Cato's arm and my bag as a giant wasp nest crashes through the tree branches. Cato gives a strangled yell as the nest breaks open and we both flee from the screen but not before I see the solid golden bodies of our assailants. Tracker Jackers.

By now everyone is awake and screaming in either pain or absolute terror as the Tracker Jackers swarm up around us. At least Cato and I had a sort of head start and I thank myself for being such a light sleeper. We crash through the trees, swatting at the bugs that got to close, hoping we were headed towards the lake. There was no cannons overhead so I didn't think any of us had actually been killed by the swarm but we wouldn't know until later.

Finally, we stumbled into a clearing and only a few Tracker Jackers remained, stinging us without mercy. I collapsed to the ground and yanked the barbs from my neck, legs, arms, moaning in pain. Cato was roaring in fury, towering over me in such a way that he reminded me of a bear. He was just as terrifying.

In absolute agony I pushed myself to my feet and grabbed at Cato's arms, pulling his stingers loose before he could protest. He roared again and raised his hand, backhanding me across the cheek and I stumbled back as the new pain hit. I hit the ground hard, and the pain becomes so much that I black out.

* * *

My dreams are distorted and terrifying. In each one I relive my worst memories from my childhood, or the death of a loved one and the pain is magnified by a thousand each time it repeats. Enobria features in many, with her surgically altered teeth clacking away in the background. I dream of my own death, completely alone in the Arena, slowly bleeding out while everyone I love stands by and watches, laughing. I'm terrified of being alone. But the worst dreams come later, when I think I'm about to wake up. And they revolve around Cato, dying because of me, and I can't help him. All I need to do is reach him, stop the bleeding, or something. But I can't. I can't get to him. He's too far away. And when I'm running, my legs are lead and I can't move. And he dies, again and again, because I'm too useless to save him.

I wake up screaming his name.

* * *

"Shhh, shhh, Clove, I'm right here."

I open my eyes slowly, scared another dream will hit and I'll be sucked back into the viscous cycle. When I see Cato's eyes I immediately shut my eyes, absolutely terrified. I can't watch him die. Not again. Not ever again. I realise that I'm shaking like a leaf and I feel a rough, calloused hand sweep my hair from my face. I let my eyes flutter open again, reassured by the fact that I'm not dreaming.

"Cato?" I croak quietly. I need the proof him saying it to make me believe it's him, which is silly because he's sitting right there, my head in his lap. His laugh startles me and I sit up gingerly, my neck and face stinging.

I do a quick inventory of my limbs, finding huge swelling welts on my legs and neck from the Tracker Jacker stings, and for some reason, my face hurts. I prod my cheek gently and moan quietly in pain. Cato brushed my hand away, his eyes filled with guilt. "I'm sorry Clove, I.. I don't know why I did it," he muttered, and then he's angry. I see the change almost immediately and I'm confused for a moment before remembering.

"You.. You hit me," I said dully. _Way to state the obvious._

He gently lifts my head and lay it down on the ground gently before shoving himself to his feet. I tilt my chin back so I can watch him, upside down, as he storms over to a tree and slams his fist into a tree. I flinch at the sound and drop my chin onto my chest, sighing in relief when he sat down beside me again. I felt myself smile and I took his hands in mine, having to reach behind my head blindly.

"What are you so happy about?" he snarled angrily, but even that didn't make my smile falter.

"Why shouldn't I be happy? The nightmares are gone, and you're here, and we're alive."

"I hit you."

"You didn't know what you were doing. I don't even remember it hardly. It only stings a little, nothing compared to the Tracker Jacker stings."

That was a lie. In pain ratio, they were both pretty equal in intensity. Cato had a lot of strength in his arms, and in that brief moment of confusion (because I knew that Cato would never intentionally hurt me) he had used all of his power to attack me. Now that the venom from the stings was out of my system, all that was left were the tender welts. But I didn't dare tell him that. He was already upset enough at the fact that he hit me in the first place.

"You're lying."

"No I'm not."

"You are. I can tell."

"You can _not_! There is no possible way tha-"

"Your nose twitches."

I stop and stare up at him. He doesn't say anything more, just lifts me from under my arms and pulls me into his lap.

"My nose does not twitch," I argue.

Again, a lie. My mum said the same thing once when I was younger. She always knew when I took an extra roll. But here, in the arena, my lies were not just so I could have extra food. They were to spare his ego, which had already been bruised, not only from hitting me but from being outsmarted by the girl from 12.

"It does. It just did again."

I don't know why but I'm getting annoyed. He has his 'high and mighty' face on again. I wanted the softer Cato back. But I was also curious as to where this would go.

"No. Just.. How would you know?"

"Forget it."

"No, I want to know."

I've twisted in his lap to see his face better so I see it coming before he has even leant forward. I start to move in when I remember where we are and I close my eyes, dipping my chin and turning my face away.

"No Cato. Not here. Not now. Not while.. Not while we're.. Just... I'm sorry."

And even though I can't seem to get out a full sentence, I know he's understood. Because even though we're alive in the literal sense of the word, we are both dead inside, and even if one of us wins, we will still be dead. We have been ever since we walked up those steps to the stage in our Districts and Volunteered our lives away for the Capitol's entertainment.

We're probably been featured, what with such a highly charged moment. But I don't care that much. What did it matter? Nothing mattered here. Nothing had ever mattered except that I had to get Cato back home. That was the only thing that mattered. And if he was leaning in _in that way_ then it would only be a distraction. I couldn't afford distractions here. Not after the Tracker Jackers.

I noticed then that it was deathly quiet. I glanced around, my eyes falling on Marvel who lay, face down in the mud a few metres from us. In panic, I slid off Cato's lap and crawled over to him, rolling him onto his back to see his face.

"He's alive."

I turned to look at Cato in confusion and he sighed, walking over to crouch beside me.

"He didn't wake up as fast as you or I did, so he was stung a few more times. The venoms still in his system but I managed to drag him back here where you were before my hallucinations got too bad."

I checked his pulse anyway, feeling slightly reassured when I felt his heart beat, even though it was too fast for normal. I glance around again, looking for the others and I realise we are alone.

"Where are the others?"

"Glimmer and the girl form 4 were killed at the tree. Peeta was following us and then he went back so I went back too. And that _bitch_ from 12 was at the tree near Glimmer and he was just.. He was yelling at her to run and get away. So I stabbed him. I couldn't see him properly, and I missed but I got his leg. He'll bleed out. There's no way he can survive with a wound like that for too long."

He's speaking fast, and I have to really focus to catch it all. But I get the gist of it and I know what it means for us.

_And then there were 3._


	4. Game on

**Game on**

"What do we do about Marvel?" I ask quietly. It's been a quiet day, but my stomach is rumbling. I haven't eaten since the tree and according to Cato, that was two days ago. We've been discussing our options for the past hour or so, arguing back and forth over where we should go and what we should be doing instead of arguing.

Cato appraises the boy in the mud critically. "We could just kill him now," he suggests thoughtfully and I punch his arm gently.

"No. We might need him later."

"Well what do you want to do with him? Sit here and baby him until he wakes up?"

"I don't know, I'm just saying, he could be useful later on. You know, when we start fighting the other tributes."

The boy in question moans in his sleep, still completely dead to the world.

"Clove, let's think rationally for a second here. If the positions were reversed-"

"But they aren't."

"But if they were-"

"They're not Cato-"

"_Shut up_. Do you really think that he would spare _our_ lives if the shoe was on the other foot? Let's face it. He's not from our District."

"But he's a Career. And Brutus said-"

"Screw Brutus! Are you stupid or something? Brutus doesn't give a fuck about us Clove! He hasn't sent us a god damned thing since we got here. We've been here for five days already and we've been sent _nothing_. That bitch from 12? She's got burn cream from her mentor. And she's from _12,_ Clove. 12. 12 gets expensive gifts that are giving her an edge on us, and _we_ have _nothing_. So get it into your thick skull and stop whining over what Brutus said. You're just being _pathetic_."

He spits the last word at me and I rock back on my heels like he'd slapped me. It hurts almost as much as if he did.

"Fuck you," is all I say and I grab my gear and storm off into the trees.

* * *

I throw a knife at anything that moves and in an hour I have a nice collection of squirrels and fat chicken like birds. I walk back to the clearing, just following the path of broken branches I'd made in my fit of rage.

Cato is sitting with his arms folded across his chest, staring at the place where I left with the angriest expression I've ever seen on his face. I don't think I'll be seeing soft Cato any time soon. I walk into the clearing and just stand there, glaring coolly at Cato until he finally breaks my gaze. Without a word he stalks over to me and I can't help but shiver involuntarily in fear. He raises his hand and for a split second I think he's going to hit me again until he reaches behind me a takes some of the fatter of my kills.

"Throw the rest back. We'll eat these tonight and then tomorrow we'll go back to the Cornucopia where there are more supplies. If Marvel's awake by then, he can come too. If he's not, we leave him here, end of."

I begin to protest but he shakes his head, grabbing my hand and pulling me roughly into his chest. With his free hand he covers my mouth and I sigh, deciding to wait it out.

"I risked my life saving him once. I won't put _our_ lives in jeopardy to save him again. If he's not awake at dawn he can fend for himself or die trying. He isn't our problem."

I look up at him and nod slowly. He didn't move his hand, just stood there looking down at me with his eyes narrowed as if he thinks I'll argue. Instead, I part my lips beneath his hand and run my tongue across his skin.

He yelped as if I had bitten him and pulled back his hand, glaring at me in disgust. I start to laugh, mostly at his expression, and double over, clutching my stomach. I see his feet take a shocked step backwards and laugh harder. When his feet come closer, I slowly straighten, still laughing like a complete nut case and I see him staring at me in wonder. I reach up and playfully push his lips into a smile and he grabs my hands, catching them gently and engulfing them in his own.

"What's so funny?" he asked, fighting to keep a straight face.

"You are," I only just manage to reply before a new round of giggles takes over.

I know he's confused but I don't care. I laugh on and on, only getting louder when he starts to chuckle too. And then we're both laughing and it's not because anything is particularly funny, but just because we can. Because we were alive in this moment of the games, even though we were surrounded by so much death. Because if we weren't laughing we would probably be fighting. And if we where fighting, we probably wouldn't have noticed the small silver parachute that slowly floated down from the trees.

We both rush over to it, still giggling and chuckling like school kids and I tear the parachute off without thinking, leaving Cato to open it.

Inside is a dream come true. Soup, a pack of bacon and some dried apple pieces. I'm relieved, one because it means that Brutus does care (or he didn't and Enobria sent it), two because we have sponsors, and three, because we have food. Real food. Not dead squirrels that I've killed with my knife. There are no fur and blood and guts and bone in this food. We wouldn't have to skin it or cook it over a fire. Well, the soup maybe but I was so hungry I started wolfing it down cold while Cato ripped into the bacon and apple pieces. We swap over quickly, him finishing the soup and me the bacon and apple.

I shoot a guilty look at Marvel but he's still deeply asleep, twitching in agitation as he dreams of unpleasant things.

"I'm going to apologise for Cato because we all know he's too proud to do it himself. Thank you Brutus and Enobria!" I shout to the sky's, giddy now that my belly has been filled. I hear Cato laugh and he drags me over to him, pulling me into my lap.

"Go to sleep Clove. It's a big day tomorrow."

"Wake me in a couple hours."

"Sure, whatever."

I know he'll never do it but I say it anyway, because I want him to know the options there. It wouldn't be fair if he had to stay up all night before we moved out at dawn. I wait until they've played the anthem but there are no faces in the sky tonight. Those in the Capitol must be getting restless. There needs to be a death, and soon, or the Game Makers would instigate their own little plot to create one themselves. I quickly count for who's left: Marvel, Cato and I, the boy from 3, the girl from 5, the boy from 10, and both from 11 and 12. Lover Boy would be on his way out soon according to Cato and I had no doubt he in my mind that he was right. Still, we had 8 more to go. It was about to get serious. 

_Game on_.

* * *

A few hours passed by the time Cato roused me. I opened my eyes blearily and looked at Marvel first, who was still dead to the world, before titling my head back to see Cato.

"You look terrible," I croak quietly, my mouth dry from the lack of water. He let me sit up and get comfortable before lying down, his head in my lap.

"Wake me at dawn," is all he said before he closed his eyes and began to snore quietly. I allow myself some time to wake up, massaging my neck gently to try to alleviate the tension that was building there. But the pain from the Tracker Jacker sting became too much so I dropped my hand to Cato's head, stroking his hair gently while he slept. I had been wrong with my previous assumption. Soft Cato was always there, just hidden behind his mask of brutality. But when he slept, all that was left was the softer side, his almost permanent scowl being replaced by a look of fearful innocence as he dreamed. I wondered vaguely what he dreamed of before I heard it.

Or rather, when I _didn't_ hear it. I reached for my knife but before I could do anything, Marvel had a spear in his hand and was aiming for my head. Unlike Glimmer, he was actually alright with weapons.

"Where is she?" he spat angrily.

I didn't answer straight away. My eyes never left his as I slowly lifted Cato from my lap and lay his head gently onto the floor, and he moaned in his sleep at the movement.

"Where is who?" I whisper, just loud enough for him to hear. I'm still moving slowly as I push myself to my feet and take a few steps away from Cato, leaving him unprotected. But Marvel is following me, completely ignoring the larger boy and for that, I'm grateful.

I shoot a glance at Cato, just to make sure he is still sleeping, and that moment of distraction is enough for Marvel to barrel into me and shove me roughly up against a tree, the tip of his spear pressed uncomfortably close to my throat.

"Glimmer. Where is she."

"She's dead."

"No."

"Yes. Tracker Jackers. Same as 4."

"No!"

Roared this time and it's loud enough to wake Cato. He sucks in a deep breath and sits up slowly, his eyes growing wide as he sees what's going on. He starts to reach for his sword but I shake my head with the tiniest of movements. Not yet.

"She tripped at the tree and couldn't get away in time. I'm sorry Marvel. She's gone."

The cry that came from his lips is more anguished this time and I sigh, brushing away the spear and taking it from his hands. Cato makes me his way over, his eyes hard and an unreadable expression on his face.

"We're going back to the Cornucopia at dawn. If you want to come with us, you are welcome too. But if you don't shut up, I'll kill you now."

I glare at Cato. It's not like he was known for being nice but the boy had just lost his District partner, probably the last thing that could remind him of home. I tilt Marvel's head down so his watery eyes focus on me.

"Did she suffer?" he asks before I can say anything and I falter before deciding the truth would probably be the best option.

"Yes."

Apparently it wasn't the best option because he began to howl in despair, loud enough to disturb the night birds that roosted in the trees that surrounded us. Cato sighed in exasperation, pulling the boy into a headlock and covering his mouth and nose. He looked almost bored as the smaller boy tried to struggle for a moment before he went limp in his arms and I looked at him in shock.

"He's not dead. Just temporarily knocked out. He'll be quiet this way at least," he said defensively and I shake my head, pushing past him to get our gear ready. I'm left to carry two of the packs, one on each shoulder, and Cato gets the last one, tossing the limp boy over his shoulder carelessly.

The sun is beginning to rise as we start off into the trees, keeping our weapons of choice at the ready. We only stop once, when we come across the sound of someone struggling through the woods. I get my knife ready and lay the packs down gently, then wait for whoever it is to appear.

From the way he's limping, I know it's the boy from 10 immediately. He had been crippled at the reaping and had only made his injury worse during the training. I wondered how he had survived for this long before shrugging and throwing my knife. He didn't see it coming. The boom of the cannon rang through the air and I grabbed both of my packs, slipping them back onto my shoulders before hurrying forward to retrieve my knife. I wasn't going to lose another one.

We must have been travelling in a wide circle without even realising, because we reach the edge of the forest well before midday. I throw my arm out when we get to the edge of the trees, staring curiously out to where the pedestals are. Someone is crouched at the base of them and is digging fervently, looking around every so often as if he's scared someone might come and kill him as he worked. In our current situation, it's not that crazy an idea. I lean up against a tree and we watch him as he finally pulls out something and shouts in glee. I squint under the glare of the sun and let out a small gasp of surprise. It's the mines that were used to blow people sky high when they stepped off their pedestals too early in the beginning of the games.

"It's number 3," I whisper to Cato excitedly. He just stares at me blankly.

"Oh come on, District 3! Electronics! They work in the factories!"

I can see from his expression he still doesn't get it and I sigh, pointing to the boy in exasperation.

"_Bombs_! We could get him as our ally and he can help us. Look at him, he's smart. He's already dug out 5 of the bombs, and we could use them!"

"Then why don't we just go get them and kill him now. There's 5, and once he's dead we can use them on 5 of the tributes. Lover Boys on his way out so we could use one for this lug, and I'm thinking a little something special for 12."

He reaches up and rubs under his eye where he was stung, setting his jaw tightly.

"But they won't be active. After the minute at the start they get turned off. He could turn them on for us."

"Clove..."

I can tell he doesn't think it's a good idea but I think it's perfect. So before he can protest further I run from the trees, getting my knife ready. The boy from 3 looks up and sees me, dropping the sixth bomb in terror and starting to bolt. But I'm faster, even with two full packs on my back and I lunge at him, landing on his back and sending him sprawling.

I put my knife at his throat and his eyes bulge, darting from side to side to find an escape.

"Can you make the bombs active again?" I ask curiously, tracing gentle patterns across his back of his neck with my knife. He gulped in terror and turned his head so he could meet my eyes slowly, nodding once.

"Show me."

I let him up and follow him back to the last bomb he's dug up. He crouched down in front of it and began to fiddle with the bottom of it for a while.

In my peripheral vision I can see Cato slowly step from the trees and make his way over to us; just his presence makes the boy start to shake in terror. I roll my eyes and lean forward to cuff the back of his head, hard.

"Ignore Cato and work. He won't hurt you."

I shoot Cato a pointed look and he glared at me before lowering his sword. This seems to relax 3 slightly and he begins to work again. After a few minutes he shows me the bomb slowly and I notice it's lit up and seems to be working again. I look to Cato and he nods with a heavy sigh and I grin, clapping my hands in excitement.

"Can you turn all of them on?"

"Of course."

"Excellent! Because I have an idea."

* * *

The day passes quickly but I don't mind. We put our packs and the knocked out Marvel at the base of one of the pedestals that has already had its mine removed and get to work shifting all the remaining packs and weapons into a huge pyramid in the middle of the Cornucopia. 3 works tirelessly digging up the mines and putting them into a small pile next to our packs. When we're all finished Cato and I dig small holes where he instructs us to and when they're deep enough, he puts in a mine, covering it up slowly with enough dirt to hide it from view. Night begins to fall by the time we're finished and I'm quite pleased with the result. Even Cato seems impressed, but he doesn't say anything, just goes to collect our packs and Marvel who is starting to stir. I tie him up to one of the crates so he doesn't panic and bolt when he wakes and then sort through some of the food that Cato has laid out in a mini feast for us. I pile a whole bunch of food in front of me and then split it in two, giving the larger portion to Cato and he laughs, both of us remembering Enobria.

Marvel woke up a little later but has the good grace to not struggle and I go to set him free, explaining the bombs to him as we walk back to the food. No-one speaks as we eat and when it's all finished we set up some tents for the night ahead. Marvel takes the first watch because he's slept all day and Cato pulls me into one of the tents without a word. There's a single sleeping bag inside but neither of us care, sliding in and curling up around each other. We're asleep almost instantly and I can almost imagine that we're back in the Capitol in our apartment, sleeping with no worries about dying.

Of course, in the Hunger Games, such a thing would be impossible.

* * *

Marvel wakes us later, urging us out into the night. He starts to argue about the watch and I feel my anger rising. Had he really just woken us to complain? 3 was sitting a few feet away, fiddling with a piece of plastic. I tune Marvel out, relaxing into Cato's side when he jumps, yelling something and pointing to the woods. I turn and follow his finger and feel my spirits rise as I see a thick plume of smoke rising from the trees.

"God, don't they learn?" I say excitedly, reaching to my waist where I've hooked a knife. "Who's going?" Personally, I wanted to go with Cato. Marvel annoyed me and 3 seemed pretty useless. It was a bit like having a male Glimmer, although he was a hell of a lot more useful than Glimmer had ever been. And he certainly didn't complain half as much.

"All of us should. But leave 3 here. We need someone to guard our stuff," Marvel says, shooting the boy a harsh look.

"He's coming. We need him in the woods, and his job here's done anyway. No-one can touch those supplies," Cato growls, and Marvel has the good sense not to argue, but he does keep going.

"What about Lover Boy?"

"I keep telling you, forget about him. I know where I cut him. It's a miracle he hasn't bled to death yet. At any rate, he's in no shape to raid us. Come on."

He thrusts a spear that was lying around near our camp into 3's hands and we set off at a run. Before we reach the trees, Cato stops us and says in a loud clear voice so that there is no way anyone of us can misinterpret it:

"When we find her, I kill her in my own way, and no-one interferes."

* * *

We run through the trees for a good half hour until we reach the camp site and I stare at the fire in front of us, completely confused.

"Who makes a bonfire this big in the Games?" I ask in exasperation, kicking a stray stick into the flames.

It's just a hug pile of sticks and green foliage all bundled up and I slowly understand what it is. "It's a diver-" I start to say but Cato has already taken off, disgruntled that there is no-one here and eager for blood. Because in the distance, there is another thick plume of smoke rising. I sprint after him, an easy task since he has left such destruction in his wake, but when we reach the next fire, we're met with the same sight. He starts to turn in circles, searching for the instigator of the fires and it takes a lot of shouting for him to stop turning and look at me.

"Cato! For fucks sake! It's just a diversion. They wanted us away from the camp. Come on, let's go back," I plead. He shakes his head.

"They can't touch the supplies. They'll be blown to smithereens. But whoever lit the fire has _got_ to be around here. They can't have gotten far."

His eyes dart around to the trees and I sigh, turning slowly to Marvel as Cato resumes his manic circles.

"Set up some traps in the nearby area, would you? And take 3. I'll try and get Cato back to camp or something."

Marvel nodded, heading off into the woods with 3 trailing behind him. I grab Cato's forearm and he tenses for a moment before glaring down at me.

"Let's go. Whoever wanted us away from camp probably has an accomplice that lit the fires. We should start heading back."

"There might be more."

"And there might not be. Come on Cato, let's just-"

"We should just check the woods a bit longer. The supplies aren't going anywhere."

"Cato-"

"Great, let's go!"

God he was annoying sometimes. But I give in, because I figure the quicker he realises that there is _no-one_ here, the quicker he will get tired and go back to the supplies. There's a niggling feeling in my gut that tells me we should have left 3 there to watch over the supplies and as a few hours pass and we find nothing, my unease grows. We walk back to the clearing where the second fire was lit and find Marvel and 3 already there, silent and staring into the dying flames.

"Come on, let's get back. There's no-one he-"

Before I can even finish my sentence there's a huge bang and it feels like the whole ground is shaking. I instinctively turn to where the Cornucopia rises above the trees and I gasp at the mushroom of fire that has spreads up into the sky. The bangs continue long after we have started running, and as we near the edge of the forest they begin to subside, one going off every few minutes or so.

When we burst from the cover of the trees I yell in despair. All of the supplies that we had spent all day collecting and counting and moving into the pyramid have been blown sky high. From a glance I can find nothing in the rubble. I slow down to a walk when we get closer and kick at the bits of broken weapons that littered the ground. Cato is in full rage mode; he's yelling something awful and pulling at his air, beating the ground with his fists. I don't dare go closer until 3 has declared the mines all detonated and then Marvel and I slowly step forward and pick through the mess, looking for something to salvage in all the wreckage. Cato joins us, entering stage two of his rage mode: the tantrum stage. He's kicking various containers and other things from the rubble and shouting terrible, _horrible_ things. And then he rounds on 3.

"This is _your _fault!"

"No- no I swear, I swear I didn't know!"

"What do you _mean _you didn't know? You didn't know that your stupid mines would blow up _everything? We have _nothing_ now_!"

I stop what I'm doing and turn to watch. 3 is trembling from head to foot, and honestly it's amazing he's still alive. I'd pulled a few Tracker Jackers from him and Cato had backhanded me. This kid pretty much got our entire lot of supplies blown up. And Cato was obviously not in a forgiving mood. 3 seemed to realise this too and he started to turn and run. But Cato is too fast. He reached out and grabbed the smaller boy, pulling him in. In one swift movement, he wrapped his arm around his neck and twisted it viscously. The cannon sounded and the boy went limp, flopping onto the ground when Cato lets him go. He rounds on us and then he's shouting again. But I've had enough. I had a head ache, I was hungry again, I'd wasted my night searching the woods for a Tribute who was just toying with us and Cato yelling at me was doing nothing to improve my temper.

"Cato, Cato! _Cato, listen to me_!"

I slap him as hard as I can across the face and he stops shouting, staring down at me in shock. I glare at him, not backing down because his temper tantrum was really grating on my last nerve.

"Stop yelling at us and just listen, for gods sake. Whoever blew up our supplies is probably dead anyway."

This catches his attention, probably more than the slap had. If he wasn't being such a whiny brat I would probably feel a bit more guilty about the red hand print that is starting to appear on his cheek.

"What do you mean they're probably dead?"

Marvel walked over uncertainly and together we point at the sky. Cato just stares at us in confusion and I sigh.

"Whoever got close enough to set off the mines would have blown themselves up too."

"But there wasn't a cannon!"

I'm considering slapping him again and Marvel obviously sees this because he's stepped in between us, a solid barrier.

"We wouldn't have heard them because of the explosions," he explains slowly, using a similar tone that a teacher would when explaining a simple concept to a small child. Cato's shoulders slump in acceptance and he joins us as we hunt through the rubble. But the only thing that seems to have survived the wreck is anything we have in our packs at the time. And suddenly I'm glad I'd lined my jacket with knives and stuffed my bag with food and a blanket. At least I could survive with that.

"Whoever did this had to have a helper. Someone who was in the woods that lit the fires. I say we go track them down and kill them before the sun comes up," I murmur to Cato. He nodded silently and went to grab his pack, checking everything is in order before he called Marvel over. If whoever had helped blow up our supplies thought we were going to give up now that we no-one longer had all of the resources we needed, they had another thing coming. It was truly game on now.

"Get your gear ready, we're going hunting."

* * *

In Cato's pack we find two pairs of glasses, the kind that helps the user see in complete darkness, and he hands me a pair, slipping the other on himself. Marvel grabbed a branch and quickly lit it on fire as we set off into the night, each going separate directions to cover more ground.

The theory is that no-one would still be awake at this time, asides from whoever lit the fires. I'm a little worried though because during the trainings, the long hours of school back home and for every night and day I've spent in the Arena, I have never once been alone. It's a little spooky at first and every twig that snaps makes me jump. I'm starting to give up and go find the others when I hear Marvel shouting with glee somewhere to my right. I practically sprint through the trees to find him.

He's standing in the middle of a clearing, staring down at something struggling in a large fishing net that has been stuck into the ground. I make my way over slowly and realise it's the girl from 11, looking absolutely terrified.

I find I can't even look at her, so young and tiny and defenceless.

"What's she doing?" I ask blankly. Marvel looks a little disappointed at my lack of enthusiasm but he's practically jumping for joy and he brushes it off.

"She's the one who set all the fires! One of the traps we set earlier caught her! Oh, this is _fantastic_! Cato! Hey, Cato!"

I slap my hand across his mouth in agitation. "Shut up you idiot! We're not the only ones in this forest. Why didn't you just kill her?"

Her eyes widen in fear and a tiny squeal escapes her mouth. My heart pulls for her but I know I shouldn't care. Because its the Hunger Games and for Cato to win, everyone else must die. Including her. No matter how sweet and innocent she was.

"I wanted you and Cato to be here." He said it as if the answer was obvious and I stop, completely thrown for a moment.

"Why do Cato and I have to be here? We aren't your guardians."

"You didn't think I killed 8 on the first night." I sigh and shake my head.

"That's because you didn't you idiot. You cut her up, sure. But you didn't kill her, Lover Boy did."

"No way! She would have died for sure if Lover Boy didn't go back!"

"Yeah, she would have died slowly and it would have taken all night. We might be Careers, Marvel, but that doesn't mean that we have to make stupid people suffer. Unless they're really stupid and helped someone blow up all out food."

I slowly turn to face 11 and she looks like she might start crying.

"So what do we do?"

"Well, you've taken too long to kill her now. Just leave her here. She can either starve to death or be eaten by wild dogs. I hear they like to chew on little girls," I sneer, my eyes narrowing. Marvel looks like he's about to protest but I grab him and throw him roughly into a tree.

"Don't argue with me Marvel. I'm tired, I have a headache and it's fucking cold. Leave her and let's go, before I decide to let her go and leave you here instead."

He glared at me and shrugged off my hands, storming off into the trees. He stops though, only a few paces away from the clearing.

"I'm staying here. It's the final 6 now anyway, so we should think about parting ways soon anyway."

I nod slowly and head off through the trees before looking back and catching his eye.

"Good luck, District 1."

"And may the odds be ever in your favour, District 2." 

_And then there were 2_.


	5. Parting Hours

**Parting Hours**

I found Cato not long after I left Marvel. He was stomping around in the a small clearing, swinging his sword at pretty much anything he could see. Many of the trees had been slashed into, with criss-crossing cuts decorating their slender trunks.

"Oi, Cato!" I called gently and he whirled around, getting his sword ready before recognition dawned on his face and he relaxed.

"Where's Marvel?"

"He's decided he doesn't want to team up any more. That he'd rather leave now."

"And you let him?"

"He'll be dead by morning, trust me."

"What makes you so sure?"

"He's not a fighter. Not when he's alone anyway. He wouldn't hurt a fly."

"I wouldn't be too sure."

"Whatever. Should we go, I don't know, do something? I'm bored."

"Alright, fine. But the next person we run into, I kill them."

Fine by me. I couldn't get 11's big brown eyes out of my head. 12 year olds shouldn't have to fight.

I decided not to tell Cato about the girl and how she was trapped. That would lead to questions as to why she wasn't dead yet. Why Marvel and I (though it was mostly because of me) hadn't just killed her on the spot. Which would lead him to question my usefulness. And although I had a feeling Cato wouldn't be able to kill me himself, he was certainly able to arrange something that would not be at all pleasant.

I shook my head, trying to erase the thoughts from my head. It did no good to dwell on things that _might_ happen. I had to look at the big picture. We jogged through the woods, staying silent so all of our energy was put into running. I wasn't too sure as to where we were headed but I followed Cato because he seemed to run with purpose. We ran until morning, and then Cato made us stop in a grassy patch of trees to rest. I broke into a bag of chips that I'd shoved in my bag and offered him some but he declined, glaring moodily ahead.

With a sigh I volunteered for first watch and forced him to lie down, lying the blanket over him. He protested for a while and it was a struggle just getting him to relax.

"Cato, for fucks sake, go to sleep!" I finally snapped, raising my hand as if to slap him again. My irritation fell and my fear rose as he leapt to his feet, backing me up into a tree.

"Don't tell me what to do Clove," he snarled threateningly.

"Or what Cato? You'll kill me?"

He cocked his head to the side and I realised he was considering it.

"Cato, come off it. Please. I just want you to lie down. Please."

Softer, kinder words seemed to work and his shoulders relaxed but he didn't step back. He towered over me at 6 ft. something and I had to crane my neck up to look at him.

The rage that had been building up inside of him for days now was beginning to surface and I realised he was going slightly mad out here in this Arena. His eyes seemed permanently narrowed and his mouth was fixated in a scowl. I reached up and placed my hands on his shoulders and he flinched at my touch, glaring down at me. I slipped under his arm and took one of his hands, tugging him gently back to where our packs lay. When I pushed him down, he complied easier than before and I sat down slowly so he could lie his head in my lap. I fiddled with his hair and his face slowly relaxed as he drifted off to sleep.

As the first rays of sun began to hit us, Cato started to rouse and I let him swap over because I was absolutely exhausted. I curled up into a ball on the ground, not daring to use Cato as a pillow as I normally would for fear that he might attack me. But his arms picked my up easily and deposited me into his lap so I shifted my position, laying my head against his shoulder. He slowly leaned back until he was lying on the ground and I shifted completely, half lying on top of him and half on the ground. His arms tightened around my waist, clinging to me possessively, and his nails started to dig into my skin.

It reminded me so much of that first night we had spent in the Capitol, him holding me together as I panicked about what would lie in store for us when we got to the Arena at the end of the week. Only this time we were in the Arena and I had a feeling he wasn't trying to hold me together. It was almost like he was using me as his anchor of sanity. What a fat lot of use that would be. I was only slightly more sane than he was at the moment. I was just glad I hadn't completely lost it and ran screaming trough the trees screaming bloody murder at the top of my lungs.

I nestled in closer to him, draping an arm across his chest, and slowly drifted off. When I next woke up, the sun had fully risen and Cato was staring at me with curious eyes, most of the madness gone.

For now.

* * *

We walked through the forest, our hands firmly locked together and our respective weapons raised, ready for a fight. But no fight came. At about midday I heard the screams, and I knew 11 would be dead before long. She sounded like she was calling to someone. Maybe there would be two deaths today. I was expecting it, so when Cato started to turn I pulled him forwards, digging my heels in when he started to protest.

"It's fine. It's just Marvel. We don't need to worry about that."

There was an answering scream, and the sound of someone running through the trees close by. Cato drew me closer, raising his sword in anticipation but whoever it was was hell-bent on getting to 11. We waited in silence for another sound, something to tell us that something was happening.

11 yelled again, the word more distinct: "_Katniss_!" A few moments passed and there was the loud booming of the cannon. One down. We waited again, and it was a few minutes later that another canon went off.

"Shall we?" I asked quietly, gesturing to the direction the sounds came from. Cato nodded and we set off at a run, reaching the clearing a few minutes later. A hover craft was already picking up someone, and I realised with a sickening plunge of my stomach that it was Marvel. But I only caught a glimpse of him when something new caught my eye.

It was 11, lying in the middle of the clearing. The net that had trapped her was gone and there was a bloody spear that had been tossed carelessly away from her. What was most intriguing were the flowers, arranged so neatly around her tiny body. In her hands was another bouquet and I wondered how had placed the beautiful flowers that surrounded the girl. It didn't matter though because a second hovercraft appeared over head and a ghastly robotic claw shot down, shattering the beauty of the girl in the flowers.

I stagger backwards, hating the way my throat had suddenly closed up at the sight. The Arena was not meant to be a place of beauty. It was a place of terror and death. But whoever had lain the flowers had wanted to send a message back to the Capitol. A message that said 'I'm not playing by your rules.'

That message would get us all killed.

* * *

"Clove, we have to go."

I can hear Cato's voice but it doesn't really register in my brain.

"C'mon Clove, move!"

It's like I'm in a perfectly sculptured dream or something. I don't move, not because I can't, but because I don't want to break the serenity I'm feeling. It's the flowers doing.

"Clove, _we have to move!_"

Why can't Cato just shut up? I just want to sit here forever, staring at the spot where 11 was whisked away, just like that. I wonder if I sit here long enough, will the hovercraft come and take me away as well? I have already accepted the fact that I will be dying soon in the near future, so why can't they just speed it up, take me away right now? It would be faster, probably less painful than any death that would occur here.

Suddenly the ground starts to move, and the trees, and the flowers. The flowers are still there, suddenly looking cold and foreign and they don't belong. Why are they here? Why are any of us here. I close my eyes for fear of being sick and I get the feeling that we're moving, cause there's a swaying motion. When I open my eyes a while later the trees are swaying sickeningly and curl up into a ball, digging my nails in. I can feel my knife, pressing into my wrist and it starts to ache. I feel the blade pierce my skin and I pull my arm out in front of me,staring at the drop of blood that is making its way down my arm.

The swaying movements stop and I vaguely hear Cato swear. I look around me, slowly coming back to life, and I realise we're back at the Cornucopia. I'm about two feet off the ground, curled up in Cato's arms, so I suppose that explains the ground moving and the sickly swaying sensation. My surroundings aren't that interesting though so I turn my gaze back to my arm, to the blood that is slowly inching down to my elbow.

Cato lowered me onto the ground and wiped at the blood impatiently, trying to lift my chin so I would look at him. But I'm too mesmerised by the blood. I pull out my knife and make the cut deeper, ignoring his protests as the blood drips out anew. The pain is inconsequential, because just the sight of the blood that is slowly leaving my body makes me feel more alive than I have for the entirety of the Games. I'm not suicidal.. Or at least I don't think I am. But then again, how would I be able to know if I was suicidal or not. I had been excited about being selected to take part in the Hunger Games, the games that would surely kill me. So maybe a small part of me was.

Annoyingly though, Cato wipes away the new blood and snatches my knife away before I can do anything more. I glare up at him and flinch when he raised his arm. But he was just pulling me closer to him, murmuring nonsense words into my ears. I didn't understand what was going on and I twisted in his arms, struggling to get free. His arms tightened like a vice around me though and my struggles were useless against him. But that didn't mean I gave up. It only made my attempts more desperate, until I actually started to kick and claw him, but still he doesn't budge. If anything, it made him hold me tighter until the pain made me cry out.

That made him relax, but he still doesn't let me go. And only when I hear the trumpets blare do I slowly come back to my senses, just in time to catch what Claudius Templesmith is saying.

"_Congratulations, tributes! Congratulations for making it to the top 6, and outlasting your competitors. Now, I know we don't talk very much, but I have some exciting news for all of you! There has been a rule change. Under this new rule, both tributes from the same District will be declared winners if they are the last two alive."_

I sit up, suddenly snapped to attention. He couldn't be serious? Was he?

"_Again, I will repeat the new rule change. Under this new rule, both tributes from the same District will be declared winners if they are the last two alive. Thank you for your attention. And may the Odds be _ever _in your favour."_

I can't believe my ears. I look at Cato who just stared at me as if all of his dreams had just come true. To tell the truth, my dreams _had _just come true. Only four Tributes stood between us now, and we could both go home. Together. It's more than I could possibly hope for. I throw my arms around Cato's neck, my knife and arm momentarily forgotten. I feel his arms wrap more securely around me and I sigh into his neck, slowly coming back to life. We could do it. We could win.

Without thinking, I lean in and kiss Cato on the cheek, pulling away and dropping my chin as my cheeks burn red. He chuckled quietly, reaching up to run his hands through my hair. He kept his hand there, just holding my head gently.

"We can go home," he whispers, his eyes finding mine and burning impossibly bright.

"I know."

"We can go home, _together_!"

"I know."

"We can-"

"_Cato_! I know. I know."

He began to laugh in pure joy, burying his head into my hair, and I let myself laugh as well. We laughed for hours, not caring if anyone heard. No-one appeared anyway, and we laughed well into the night. We slept curled up in each others arms, and I felt happy and light, like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. It wasn't cold enough to warrant getting out our spare blanket but I curled closer into Cato anyway under the pretext that I was cold. I felt him smile against my cheek and he hugged me tighter as we drifted off to sleep, dreaming peaceful dreams of home and the celebrations that would ensue when we got there.

* * *

We don't leave the Cornucopia for the next two days. It's peaceful here, and I understand why they all say that the Cornucopia is the safest place. There is no threats or dangers of any of the remaining Tributes striking to kill, and I'd they were it wouldn't matter; they had to cross and open field to get to us and the pickings would be easy.

During the day I lazed up on top of the Cornucopia, soaking up the artificial sunlight. Cato sat beside me, occasionally throwing food at me to catch in the air. There were no cannon booms and I could practically feel the Capitol getting restless. But for some reason the Game Makers held off on trying to bring the Tributes together. I guessed they were planning the annual feast. But Cato and I would probably not be participating. We had all the food we needed, thanks to the parachutes that arrived at each meal time.

Cato and I spent the days talking amongst ourselves, heads close, our voices hushed to keep the conversations private. It wasn't like we were talking anything top secret, or planning some silly revolution against the Capitol, but I was sick of the feeling of knowing everyone in Panem could hear and see your every move. I was sick of the lack of privacy. So this was just one tiny comfort I got to indulge in. Aside from the blankets. The blankets kept us warm when the nights got cooler.

We talked about everything, from our favourite colour, to what we would do with the fame and fortune we would win when we got home. I found out that he sometimes sang to his sister, who's name was Christabelle, and when he sang to me he had the voice of an angel. He managed to coax a few songs from me too and he seemed in awe of my voice. I blushed, ducked my head away and changed the subject quickly. The only praise I would ever accept was about my knives. Music was just a silly thing to pass my time. Knives were what really mattered.

* * *

We didn't bother with having someone take watch during the night. The nights were spent in peaceful slumber, all rugged up in blankets whilst wrapped in each others embrace. I couldn't think of any other way to spend the rest of my life. On the third day, when the anthem played, the trumpets sounded and Claudius began to speak to us, alerting us to the upcoming feast. That would be held at the Cornucopia. Where we were. We ignored him, turning back to the feast that Enobria and Brutus had provided for us when he started to speak again.

"_Now hold on. Some of you may already be declining my invitation. But this is no ordinary feast. Each of you needs something desperately._"

"I desperately need to go home? Does that count for anything?" I mutter sarcastically and Cato chuckled, dragging me closer.

"_Each of you will find something in a backpack, marked with your District number, at the Cornucopia at dawn. Think hard about refusing to show up. For some of you, this will be your last chance._"

His last words ring ominously in the air and I slowly to turn to grin at Cato.

"Betcha I know what Lover Boy and 12 need."

"Medicine."

"And 12 would risk her life to get it, I bet."

"And when she does.."

"We'll be waiting."

"Do you have a plan?"

"Don't I always?"

* * *

We don't sleep that night. Tomorrow would be a big day. Instead, we prepare. Cato fills our packs with what we might need for the day; extra left overs just in case we can't make it back in time, a few of my knives in his pack in case he loses his sword. Unlikely, but not impossible. And I refused to have walking out in the forest with no protection. I polished my knives, making sure each of them were sharpened to perfection. A few hours before dawn and we were ready.

"Just remember. If 12 comes your way, you take her out. Don't worry about Thresh or 5. I'll take care of them."

"Cato, what if she doesn't come?"

"She will. She'll do anything to save Lover Boy."

"But what if she doesn't?"

"Would you do it for me?"

His question brings me up short but I nod immediately. There was no question about. It Cato was dying I would go to the ends of the earth to save him.

"Excellent. She'll do this. Love makes people to crazy, dangerous things. And she's gonna wish she never came in the morning."

I nodded, not fully convinced, but Cato seemed excited about the day ahead and I couldn't help but excited too. It was infectious.

"Stay safe," I murmured, pulling him into a hug.

"Always. Give 'em a good show, Clove," he whispered back, running his hands through my hair. "You just call out if some thing goes wrong ok? I'll be right there. I promise."

This relaxed me slightly and I nod. He kissed my forehead gently, then ducked out from under the cover of the Cornucopia and darted across to the tree line. I retreated into the shadows, and I waited.

* * *

At dawn, the party started.

Right on time, a table rose from the ground, four packs lined up neatly there. The packs marked 2 and 11 are the biggest and I'm curious as to what we need that is so big. The pack marked 5 is smaller, a medium sized pack that would be easy to sling over your shoulder, and a small bright orange thing that could probably fit over my wrist must be marked 12. Just as the table clicks I see a movement from the trees and I get my knives ready. But it's just 5 so I relax. No need to reveal myself now.

Cato would be somewhere in the tree line, searching for Thresh, and I wondered what the big boy from 11 could possibly want.

And then I see her. 12, sprinting from the trees as if that bag is her last hope. Her desperation is written all over her face. My first knife whizzes straight at her head but she must have heard it or something because she turns while she runs and deflects it with her bow. A few key things fall into place and I realise that's how Marvel was killed, and it was probably she who had blown up our supplies. It made sense. With the bow she could be further away from the mines but still hit them, if she had the right aim.

While I'm thinking all this, she's on the counter-attack and I just have time to twist out of the way when her arrow pierces my arm. I gasp in pain but it's really no different to how I cut myself the other night so I pause for barely a moment so I can rip the arrow free. As she reaches the table I get my next knife and throw it as hard as I can, glad that it hits her, this time opening a gash above her right eyebrow. I marvel at the flow of blood that floods out. She sends another arrow at me but she can't see and I don't even have to move as it flies right over my shoulder. I pounce on her, sending her onto her back and pinned her shoulders down with my knees.

Finally. My revenge on 12.

"Where's your boyfriend District 12? Still hanging on?" I ask sweetly.

Her face contorts to hate as she replies. "He's out there now. Hunting Cato." I can't help the flicker of fear in my eyes but then she's yelling for Lover Boy so I jam my fist into her windpipe, cutting off her voice.

I quickly glance from side to side but no-one appears and I know that Cato is safe. I turn back to her, fixing her with my best manic grin. It's not hard. I'm feeling giddy that I've finally got her.

"Liar," I said, calling her bluff. "He's nearly dead. Cato knows where he cut him. You've probably got him wrapped up in some tree while you try to keep his heart going. What's in the pretty little back pack? Medicine for Lover boy? Too bad he'll never get it."

I open my jacket, revealing the rows of knives I've neatly strapped there. I pull out my favourite, one of the smallest ones with a pearl handle and a wicked curved blade.

"I promised Cato if he let me have you, I'd give the audience a good show," I sneer, wiping my thumb across the sharpened blade so it makes the pretty gleam sound. It's my favourite sound by far, aside from Cato when he sings.

As if she can see that's she's going to die now, she begins to struggle, trying to pitch me off her. I'm small for my age but she's even smaller so it's not hard to keep her restrained.

"Forget it District 12. We're going to kill you. Just like we did your pathetic little ally... What was her name? The one who hopped around in the trees? Rue? Well, first Rue, then you, and I think we'll let nature take care of Lover Boy. How does that sound?"

I know I'm dragging it out but the way her eyes bulged in hatred when I mentioned 11 was too entertaining. The Capitol people would be sitting in front of their screens, not wanting to miss a second of the action.

"Now, where to start?"

I wipe almost gently at the blood from her forehead and tilt her face this way and that, but I already know where to start. On the mouth. And wouldn't that just be ironic.

"I think," I purred softly. "I think we'll start with your mouth."

I bite back a laugh as she clamps her mouth shut as my blade slowly traces the outline of her lips.

"Yes, I don't think you'll have much use for your lips any more. Want to blow Lover Boy one last kiss?"

She purses her lips and for one moment I think she might be doing just just that. But then she spat up at me, her mouth full with blood and saliva. I feel my rage rise and I glare at her.

"All right then. Let's get started."

I only have time to cut into the top of her mouth when something grabs my jacket and hauls me off her, hanging me a foot off the ground. It's Thresh. _No_. Where was Cato? But I hadn't heard a canon. Or any sounds of a fight. So maybe he had just misjudged his placement in the woods. He'd come help me. He had to.

In Thresh's free hand I see the rock, so small in size but I've seen Tributes be killed by smaller and for the first time I realise I could die right now. He suddenly flips me and flings me into the ground and I struggle to get air back into my lungs as I feel something crack beneath me.

"What'd you do to that little girl? You kill her?" he shouts. I'm absolutely terrified and it takes me a moment to realise he was talking about Rue. I start to push myself backwards on all fours now, struggling to escape. I can't do anything but deny his claims but I know before the words are even out of my mouth he won't believe me. Not after the big show I made with 12.

"No! No, it wasn't me!"

"You said her name. I heard you. You kill her?" His face darkens as a new thought hits him. "You cut her up like you were going to cut up this girl here?"

I shake my head again but he's not listening.

"No! No, I-" I stop shouting as I see the stone rise. Dear god, he was going to kill me.


	6. The End

**The end.**

I was going to die right here, right now, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I feel the madness swell up in me and I begin to scream for Cato. He has to come. He said he'd come if I needed him.

"Cato!" I screeched. "Cato"

As the rock came down and smashed into my temple I vaguely heard him call back my name but I was falling, a blinding headache taking over. I fell and hit the ground hard, knocking all the wind out of me and my world started to darken. 

_Find something beautiful_.

There. By the trees. Cato.

Cato was beautiful. Even now with his face screwed up in terror. He was positively god like. He was even glowing.

But the glow was slowly fading as my vision started to slip. I could feel death's icy grip on me. No.

I couldn't leave now. We were so close.

Cato fell to his knees by my side, cradling my head. 

_Find something beautiful_.

I found his eyes. His eyes were beautiful. I clung onto them as my eyes slowly closed and then the pain took over and I saw no more.


End file.
